Until There Was You(20)

“Does he have a name? The cat? Did you name him?” Posey babbled, unwilling to let him go. The intimacy of the moment, the hidden depths of this mysterious alpha male, oh, it was so romantic! He was feeding a starving cat! Him! The motorcycle guy who had girls crawling over him!

Liam paused. “I’ve been calling him Joe,” he admitted with a crooked grin, and Posey almost died.

“That’s a good name,” she managed.

Liam’s smile grew. “See you, Cordelia.” With that, he went inside.

The simmering lust, the raging interest exploded into love. Who wouldn’t fall in love with a man who took the time to feed a homeless kitty? She held that image against her heart like a secret jewel. Only she knew about it, she was sure. Those girls Liam might’ve slept with, girls who left their panties in his locker or wrote things about him on the bathroom walls…they didn’t know what Posey knew—Liam Declan Murphy was not just the hottest thing ever to grace Bellsford High…he was a softy, too.

It took a week or two of screwing up her courage, but Posey finally spoke to Liam in school. After World History, she ran up the stairs, then galloped to room 224, where Liam would be going from Physics to English. She slowed down, not wanting him to see that she was out of breath, and glanced at her chest to make sure the tissues she’d stuffed in her bra hadn’t shifted.

Liam was smiling that half grin at some girl who was telling him he really should hang out with her sometime. Tramp. Posey pretended not to notice them, then, when she was just a couple of feet away, looked up. “Oh, hey, Liam.”

“Hi,” he said, a little cautiously. They didn’t speak in school (or ever, really, except for that one time in the alley).

“How’s Joe?” she asked.

He paused. “Joe’s fine.” Then he grinned, and Posey’s knees weakened so fast that she wobbled.

“So, anyway, you could definitely come over,” the slutty girl said. “You won’t be sorry.”

“Is that right,” Liam murmured, turning his attention back to her. Posey didn’t mind. She and Liam had a secret. Later that day, when she came to the restaurant, she slipped into the closet where Liam’s coat was and tucked a can of tuna into his pocket. No note. Let him wonder. Let him think about her the way she thought and thought and thought about him. Later that week, this time after Liam’s Spanish class, he spoke to her. “Hey. Joe says thanks.” And he smiled at her as he walked past and for a second, Posey was literally blinded with love.

“Do you, like…know him?” asked Melissa Shields, one of Posey’s classmates.

“Sure,” Posey said casually.

Timing it carefully so she didn’t seem too eager (though if she’d put as much time into her algebra class as she did into tuna cans, she would’ve had an A+), Posey once again left a gift for Joe in the pocket of Liam’s worn black leather jacket. For one blissful moment, she held the coat to her face, breathing in the smell—leather and soap and cloves—before sneaking back into the restaurant. Then, just before lunch on Thursday, Liam acknowledged her once more as he was going into the courtyard. “Joe’s getting spoiled.” He raised an eyebrow as if saying You. You’re so dang cute.

“Where is all our tuna going?” Stacia wondered aloud, but Posey just smiled. Counted the days until she could plant another can. Despite the fact that there was fish involved, it all seemed incredibly clandestine and romantic. She could almost imagine them rehashing it someday in front of a roaring fire in a cabin on a mountain somewhere. Liam would gaze into her eyes and say, “Remember when you used to sneak me food to give to Joe? That’s when I first fell in love with you.” Then Joe, whom they would’ve adopted, would climb into her lap, purring noisily, and they’d laugh. And then kiss. Maybe even French kiss. Just the thought of it made her flushed and squishy.

But one day, as she was sitting at the table in the restaurant kitchen, Liam came over, holding the latest can of tuna she’d slipped into his coat pocket an hour ago. “Looks like Joe’s moved on,” he said. He set the can down.

“Moved on? Where?”

“Someone adopted him,” Liam said.

“What?” she yelped. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Some lady was out there, trying to get him to come out from behind the Dumpster. She asked if he belonged to anyone, and I said no, and she took him.”

“But…but who was she? We don’t even know her! She can’t just…take him.” Her voice thickened with tears.

Liam gave her an odd look. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Then he turned and walked away, his shift over. And though Posey tried and tried, wracking her brain in bed at night, she couldn’t think of anything else to say that would reestablish that bond, that secret, lovely feeling. What about Joe? Was he happy? Was the woman nice? Did Liam miss his little pal? He didn’t seem to be particularly suffering, surrounded as ever by a throng of admirers, male and female alike.

Summer came; Liam took another job at a garage, and Posey saw him less—and counted the days till school started once more. The first day of Posey’s sophomore year, however, was also the day that Emma Tate returned to New Hampshire.

Emma hadn’t been in school the past year; her dad, a politician, had made friends with the right demigod in Washington, and the Tates had been living in London. That was the kind of luck Emma had…a year in London.