“I was just about to leave,” she says. But it’s a lie. She was definitely not about to leave. “Right, Liam?” She and Liam exchange a silent, loaded look that I’d give half a kidney to be able to decipher.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to leave,” I say weakly. “I—”

“By the way, I’m going to introduce myself, since Liam here is clearly not going to.” She hops down with grace that I’ve seen only in ballet dancers and Olympic gymnasts before, and holds out her hand. I hate myself for trying to remember if it’s the same hand that was wrapped around Liam’s arm while her head was on his shoulder. “I’m Emma. You must be the famous Mara?”

Why she would know my name is an absolute mystery. Unless Emma and Liam are very serious, and then Liam would have mentioned his annoying roommate once or twice, and will you look at that? It appears that I just cannot bear the thought. “Yes. Um . . . Nice to meet you.”

Emma’s handshake is cool and firm. She smiles briefly, nice and self-assured, then turns to pick up her jacket from a stool.

“Well. This was fun. Informative, too. Mara, I hope we’ll meet a ton more times. And you . . .” She turns to Liam. Her voice drops lower, but I can still make out the words. “Cheer up, buddy. I don’t think you’re as doomed to a lifetime of pining as you think. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She’s not very tall and has to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, one hand pressing against his abs for balance, and if Liam minds having her up in his space, he doesn’t show it. Then there is a friendly wave, directed at me this time, a cheerful “Good night,” the sound of her heels against the parquet flooring on her way to the entrance, and then—

Gone.

That noise was the front door opening and closing, which means that Liam and I are alone.

“Liam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“To?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking confused by my reaction. He’s still leaning against the counter, and I can’t make myself move away from the entrance. I can’t make myself continue and apologize for interrupting his date. I was going to leave. I promise. You guys could have continued in your room, Liam. I wouldn’t have minded.

Really.

“How did the presentation go?”

I look up from inspecting my shoes. “What?”

“Your presentation today? For the lead position?”

“Ah.” Right. The presentation. The one I’ve been complaining about for days. The one I practiced with him yesterday. And the day before. The one he probably knows by heart. “Um, very good. Good. Well, okay. Passable.”

“It’s getting worse by the word.”

I wince. “It was . . . I stumbled a bit.”

“I see.”

“But maybe I still did better than Sean?”

“Maybe?”

“Probably.”