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Then, with a sharp exhale, he shifts into park.

I push the door open before he can change his mind, stepping out onto the sidewalk. The night air is cool against my overheated skin, but I barely feel it as I make my way toward the entrance. My pulse is hammering, my body taut with too many emotions to name.

Liam follows a few steps behind, his presence like a storm at my back. He doesn't touch me, doesn't speak, just moves with me, silent and heavy, until we reach my apartment.

Inside, the familiar scents of vanilla and something citrusy cling to the air—comforting, grounding—but it does nothing to ease the tension coiled tight inside my chest. I toss my purse onto the kitchen counter, turning just as Liam shuts the door behind him.

He stands near it for a moment, his posture stiff, like he's already preparing for a fight.

Good.

Because I am so fucking ready for one. None of this is his fault, which makes me the bad person for starting what I'm about to. But I can't… I can't control it, not when the words are just at the tip of my lips.

I cross my arms, leaning back against the counter. "What did Vanessa mean?"

Liam closes his eyes and sighs. "Ava?—"

"No." I shake my head, heart pounding. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out. She said I didn't know the whole story, so tell me. What am I missing?"

"She's just trying to mess with you."

"And it's working." My voice cracks on the last word, and I hate it, but I don't back down. "Because you're letting it work. You're acting like she didn't say something that clearly rattled you. Like she didn't just—" I break off, sucking in a sharp breath. "If she's lying, tell me. If she's playing some game, say that. But don't stand there and expect me to pretend it didn't mean anything when you won't even look at me."

Liam's eyes snap up to mine then, sharp and stormy and furious.

"You really want to know?" His voice is low, dangerous.

"Yes."

His nostrils flare, but he doesn't move, doesn't speak, just stares at me like I'm the problem. Like I'm the one making this harder than it needs to be.

And that—that—is the last fucking straw.

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. "God, I'm so stupid."

Liam's brows pull together. "Ava?—"

"This whole thing," I cut in, waving between us, "was supposed to be simple. Fake dating. A cover story. No feelings, no complications." I laugh again, but it's brittle now, fraying at the edges. "But guess what? I did catch feelings. And instead of running from it, I let myself believe—" My throat tightens. "I let myself believe you might feel the same way."

The words land between us, shattering the space like glass.

Liam flinches, just barely, but I see it.

And maybe that should feel like a victory. Maybe I should take it as proof that I'm not alone in this, that whatever I'm feeling is real, that I'm not crazy for thinking we've been inching toward something inevitable.

But all I feel is tired.

Tired of waiting for him to meet me halfway.

Tired of pretending I don't care when I do.

Tired of wanting him when I don't even know if I have him.

I exhale shakily, gripping the edge of the counter. "I'm scared, Liam. Okay? I'm scared that I let myself fall for you just to end up being another mistake you regret."

Liam's entire body goes still.

A muscle tics in his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides.