Page 29

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The next morning I was up at eight—but not for class.

I told Zion and Sarai I would join them for breakfast, and Sarai had class a little earlier.

I didn't really mind being up early since I went to bed at a decent time—especially after Monroe left once we finished dinner.

I made my bed as usual, folding the gray cover that I slept with over my comforter and texting Monroe I had woken up since she specified to do so.

I also texted Kaia back who sent me a few TikTok and asked about my plans tonight, but I decided not to make any with her since I knew Monroe probably already had plans in mind for us.

Then I got dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, sliding on a pair of Uggs since I was only going to Zion and Sarai's for breakfast.

I did my skincare and pulled my hair into a decent bun, not putting in any extra effort.

As I was leaving my apartment, I unconsciously checked my phone for a text back from Monroe.

But there was nothing.

It had barely been an hour, so I had determined I was growing concerningly needy for her attention.

Especially since all I could think about was her during my drive to Zion and Sarai's.

My heart nearly shot up in my chest when her contact displayed on the digital radio screen, indicating she was calling me rather than texting back.

"Good morning," I spoke first as a smile grew on my lips.

"Someone's very happy this morning," her smooth voice echoed through my car.

I hummed, "It's a perfect morning," I determined excitedly, "I'm headed over to Zion and Sarai's now for breakfast."

"What are you having?" Monroe asked me as I flicked on my signal to turn left.

"Uhhh Sarai is making Belgian waffles," I said, focusing on the road, "You know, like with the waffle maker and stuff," I tried my best to explain, smiling at how funny I sounded.

"I do know, Liberty," she said, almost amused by my words, "Have you drank water yet?"

I nodded, "I have—I drank the bottle I left on my nightstand last night," I quickly explained, slowing down when I noticed the speed limit changed for the more residential area.

"Good girl," Monroe calmly said, making me purse my lips tightly together.

Along with my legs.

"What are your plans for the day?" she asked when I remained silent.

"Probably just the gym and I guess I'll work on my paper for software engineering," I told her as I flicked on my signal and turned down another street.

"Sounds very productive, Liberty," she murmured, making a small smile grow on my lips.

"It does, doesn't it?" I said, thinking about how much of a three-sixty my life recently took, "What about you? What are your plans for today?"

"The usual," she said, as I turned into the apartment complex parking lot, "A few patients and files to look over."

"Has Sienna bothered you yet?" I decided to ask her, pursing my lips when my smile grew.

"Only with a coffee and patient files," Monroe calmly said, making me roll my eyes.

"Of course, she gets you coffee," I mumbled as I pulled into the open parking spot.

"I'll get my coffee from now on," she determined, picking up on the clear hostility of my words.

"Monroe Leclair? Getting her own coffee?" I said, dramatically gasping to myself, "What kind of sick world is this?"

My heart nearly shot upin my chest when I heard her soft chuckle echo from the speakers.

I made her laugh.

I just... she totally just laughed.

And it was so pretty—probably the softest sound I've ever heard.

Ugh, why couldn't this have happened in person?

Now I'll have to imagine the face she made.

What her smile looks like...

I blinked a few times, realizing I was being weirdly silent, "Sienna's going to be so upset when you walk in with your coffee," I suddenly spoke again, unbuckling my seatbelt, "Can you get her reaction on camera?"

"My god, Liberty," Monroe murmured in amusement, softly chuckling again as I sincerely wished I was standing in front of her.

The universe totally hates me right now.

"Your jealousy is adorable," she admitted, making my face burn up as I shyly glanced down to my lap.

"I just wish I could put like a ten-foot barrier around you at all times," I whispered, smiling to myself as I heard her let out a soft sigh.

"I'm a very reserved person, Liberty," she said, her voice smooth as it echoed from my speakers, "That alone is a barrier."

I nodded a few times to myself, knowing she wasn't exactly friendly with everyone.

I barely got her to be friendly with me.

Even her laughing felt so fucking rare.

"Good, well, just make sure Sienna gets the hint," I sighed, turning my car off and grabbing my phone to put it on speaker.

"I'll take care of it," Monroe assured me as I grabbed my keys and opened my car door, "Text me when you're finished there."

I closed my car door, "I will," I said, locking my car as I walked toward the complex.

"Good girl," she said, making shivers roll down my spine, "Enjoy breakfast."

"Thank you," I whispered, lowering the phone as we ended the call.

Then I focused on walking inside the familiar warm lobby, taking the elevator up to Zion and Sarai's level.

The door was left unlocked for me, walking inside just as they were plating the large square waffles.

"Libs," Sarai smiled as I walked further into their apartment.

"I put chocolate chips and bananas on yours," Zion told me, immediately making my mouth water.

"My favorite," I said with a growing smile, walking over to them.

"And I warmed up the syrup," Sarai added, making my smile widen.

"This is going to be so good," I said, throwing my arms around them both for a brief hug that they reciprocated, "I woke up hungry."

"Girl me too," Sarai laughed as she picked up her plate.

"I feel like my stomach is eating my backbone," Zion said as he grabbed his plate and the syrup.

I smiled as I grabbed mine, finding the prepared waffle very pretty.

"Thank you guys for breakfast," I said as we walked over to the table.

"Anytime," Sarai said as she sat down at the table.

"You can Cashapp or Venmo us fifteen dollars to cover your waffle," Zion jokingly said as he sat beside Sarai, making me laugh.

"They would probably charge more at a restaurant," I determined, sitting across from them.

"Zi—that's it," Sarai said with a smile, "We should just drop out of school and open a restaurant," she jokingly determined, making me laugh again.

Zion nodded a few times as he drizzled a decent amount of syrup over his waffle, "I like the way you think—we could call it..." he trailed off in thought for a moment, "Waffles with Zi and Sarai."

"Oh, I would definitely eat there. Thirty dollar waffles? Take my money," I joked along with them, smiling wider as I drizzled the syrup over my waffle.

"Just give me my money," Sarai randomly called out, holding her hand in the air.

Zion and I laughed as we all dug into our waffles—a brief silence growing around us as we ate.

We nearly sounded like fucking animals—especially with Zion hitting the table, nodding as he pointed to his waffle.

I hummed happily to myself while Sarai breathed heavily as she danced in her chair.

I was a little sad when we finished eating and it was time for Sarai to rush off to class.

Zion invited me to the library but I kind of wanted to hit the gym and then work on my schoolwork.

Maybe that's just me procrastinating though.

Either way, I decided on it—texting Monroe that I had finished with breakfast and was planning to hit the gym next.

Traffic wasn't bad at all, I managed to make it back to my apartment in less than fifteen minutes.

Then I focused on getting ready for the gym, sliding on seamless leggings and a matching zip-up jacket.

As I was lacing up my Nikes, soft knocks echoed against my door—easily making my brows furrow.

Until I contemplated the idea that it was Kaia.

Although she's in class right now.

Or she should be?

I raised up to my tippy-toes, staring through the peephole of my door.

Where a brunette woman stood.

She wore the usual attire that I noticed my apartment management always wears, holding a sleek black box in her hands as she waited on the other side.

I reached for the handle, opening the door with furrowed brows.

"Ms. Fierro, hi," the woman said as soon as I opened the door, flashing me a respectful smile.

"Hi?" I said almost in question, glancing down when she extended the box to me.

"This was left at the front desk for you," she informed me as I hesitantly took the box from her.

"Oh okay," I murmured, analyzing the box for a moment, "Thanks."

"Of course," the woman said, giving me a curt nod before walking down the hallway toward the elevators.

I stepped back inside my apartment, letting the door fall shut behind me as I walked over to my kitchen island.

I reached for the lid of the box immediately, tugging it off to see what was inside.

My eyes widened upon landing on the numerous crisp red roses, an unconscious smile growing on my lips.

I carefully ran my fingers over the soft roses, my smile growing even more as I reached for the white notecard to read.

Dinner at 6. Pack for the weekend.

M. Leclair

I pursed my lips together when an annoying grin spread on my lips, doing a small twirl with the notecard in hand.

Then I had to reel myself back in—after a few excited jumps.

She got me flowers.

And I'm packing for the weekend?

She's taking me to her house.

Hopefully?

I let out a deep content sigh, holding the card to my chest as I basked this all in.

Then I reached for my phone, deciding to text her something funny.

I watched the text deliver through, glancing back over to the red roses with my smile still so fucking prominent.

I hate her for making me act like this over a plant.

My eyes shifted from the flowers to my phone when her texts buzzed through.

I rolled my eyes at her text, even if my smile was still so prominent.

I typed on my phone again, texting her back.

I bit the inside of my cheek, watching the text send through as I leaned against the counter.

The typing bubbles appeared barely seconds later, indicating she was typing.

I drew in a deep breath at her text, recalling the red outfit I tried on for her.

The same one she untied from my body.

I blinked a few times, trying to push the explicit thoughts of last night away as I focused on typing my response.

I felt beyond warm as I watched the text send through, suddenly feeling very frustrated.

Knowing her, that's probably what she wanted.

I glanced down when my phone buzzed again with two texts.

I clenched my jaw when shivers ran down my spine, rereading her texts as I tried to cling to my sanity.

Especially as I envisioned her thinking about me... vividly.

I had to force my focus away from my phone, locking it as I glanced back over to the roses.

Which ironically enough, resembled the exact shade of the outfit she had thought of.

I shook my head, letting out a deep breathless sigh as I tried to remember what I was doing last.

The gym.

I was going to the gym.

I suddenly reached for my water and keys, picking my phone up so I could head to the gym downstairs.

I was determined to focus my sudden frustration on my workout, letting time pass by me in the gym.

I even hit the sauna after and walked to a nearby cafe for a smoothie and a chicken wrap.

By the time I made it back to my apartment, I felt productive.

And also like I didn't have time to work on my paper.

Somehow it was almost three.

I probably should've brought my food back to eat at my apartment, but oh well.

I can just bring my laptop with me and focus on my paper when I get the chance.

Right now, I needed to start packing.

Which I knew would take me at least an hour since it was for the weekend.

Then I had to get ready still.

I wanted to blow out my hair and put extra effort into my look tonight.

Which would take a few hours minimum.

It didn't help that all I could think about was her house and what it looked like.

Or the explicit thoughts of us last night that swirled in my head.

By the time she texted me that she was here, I was barely finished with my makeup, still standing in my robe.

My hair was done though—I needed maybe ten more minutes, which I texted her to inform her.

Even though I knew she was literal with time.

She got here at six on the dot.

I let out a frustrated sigh when sharp knocks sounded out my door.

But I was quite literally in the middle of zipping up my dress.

It was a darker shade of red, falling to my knees as it clung to my body.

It was off the shoulder, but the long sleeves still kept me warm.

I stumbled out of my closet, fully zipping up my dress as I walked out of my room toward the front door.

I didn't even have to check the peephole to know it was Monroe on the other side.

She wore a black blouse with matching dress pants and her usual sharp stilettos.

Her dark hair was down, her bangs framing her face covered in usual light makeup.

"I'm almost done," I said as I turned around to rush back into my room.

"Take your time," she murmured, her heels clicking sharply against my floors as she followed me into my room, "I scheduled the reservations for later."

I pursed my lips into a smile, "You know me so well," I mumbled, weirdly finding it attractive that she knew I would be running late.

"I do," Monroe calmly said as I rushed to grab my heels.

I couldn't help but stall for a moment, weirdly processing the sight of her in my room.

It was her first time in here and it feels...

Intimate.

Especially when her blue eyes landed on the folded grey blanket she had given me so long ago.

"You sleep with this?" she curiously murmured, delicately running her fingers over the soft cover.

"No," I said, my tone more defensive than I originally planned, "I just... it's nice for decoration."

Monroe hummed softly, her stare shifting to my cheetah print comforter—then over to my nightstand and various other decorations.

That didn't have a spot of grey in them.

If anything the blanket looked out of place.

Fuck.

"It's cute that you sleep with it, Liberty," she said as I suddenly focused on putting my heels on.

Because I definitely couldn't look at her right now.

"It was like a one-time thing," I whispered, suddenly feeling shy as I walked over to the bed.

Monroe smoothly grabbed the gold heels from my hands, "Right," she murmured, sitting on the bed in front of me.

I furrowed my brows, "What are you doing?" I asked in confusion, glancing down at my heels in her hands.

"Helping you," she calmly determined, leaning down as she ran her soft hands down my leg.

But only to wrap her delicate touch around my ankle, lifting my foot to rest on the bed between her legs.

I instinctively rested my hands on her shoulders, feeling my face burn up as I watched her slide the heel onto my foot.

Once clasped around my ankle, she grazed her thumb over my soft skin before lowering my foot.

I lifted my other foot for her, letting her slide on my other heel and clasp it.

"Done," she said, lowering my foot back down and glancing up at me, "Are you packed?"

I nodded a few times, "My suitcase is over there," I told her, motioning to my small black suitcase by the door.

"Good," she murmured, rising from the bed as I unconsciously kept my hands on her shoulders.

Monroe paused for a moment, openly staring down at me as my hands remained on her shoulders.

Until I suddenly retracted them away, clearing my throat as I looked away from her.

The last thing I wanted was for her to reject me again as she did in that bathroom.

I don't think kissing is her thing.

But that's fine—I've had instances where I hooked up with someone and didn't kiss them.

I could easily do this.

"I'll get your bag," she suddenly said, walking past me toward my suitcase by my room door.

"Okay," I murmured, following behind her as she grabbed the handle of my suitcase and smoothly pulled it up, rolling it out of my room, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said as we walked toward my front door.

I grabbed my keys as she opened the door, motioning me through first.

Then we headed downstairs to the parking garage where her black Bentley was parked.

Monroe put my suitcase in the trunk as I slid into the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt and getting comfortable.

She slid into the driver's seat moments later, starting the car before buckling her seatbelt.

Then she put the car into drive, pulling out of the parking spot she previously reversed into.

I assumed dinner would be downtown—or maybe on the outskirts.

But the further Monroe drove, the quicker I realized we were having dinner much further than downtown.

It seemed like we were having it in a whole other city.

I remained silent as soft jazz music played from the surround speakers, trying to act like this was totally normal to me.

But after two hours of driving, I couldn't help but glance over at her, finally deciding to ask her where we were going.

And if we're there yet.

"Monroe," I suddenly spoke through the calm silence.

She didn't glance away from the gloomy roads, "Yes?" she murmured, continuing to drive down the busy highway.

"Where are we going?" I said, my attention placed entirely on her, "And why is it taking so long? I'm hungry."

She briefly glanced to me, "We're two exits away," she said, reassuring me as she glanced back forward, "I'm taking you to Cannon Beach."

I furrowed my brows, "You took me to an entirely different city?" I asked blankly, wishing I would've been better informed.

"Staying in Seattle would equate to acting appropriatelyin public," Monroe calmly determined, flicking on her signal and merging to the right lane, "I didn't want to do that."

I pursed my lips, "So we're staying here too?" I asked, feeling something inside of me deflate.

Because I already knew her answer, and it meant I wouldn't get to see her house.

"Yes," she said, exiting off the highway, "It's a beachfront property. You'll like it."

I lazily hummed, "Right because this is totally beach weather," I mumbled, glancing out of the window coated with raindrops.

It was grey and gloomy outside, making me want to climb back into my bed and sleep for hours.

"The beach is beautiful on days like this, Liberty," Monroe countered my assumption, flicking on her signal and smoothly turning right at the stoplight, "You'll see."

I only hummed, staring out the tinted window at the shops and houses we passed.

It was very... coastal.

I think it would probably be really nice in the summer.

In a way, Monroe was right, it looked kind of poetic under the gloomy sky and light sprinkling of rain.

All I could do was stare out the window, watching as we grew closer and closer to the beachfront.

I assumed she was taking us to the property first, but it turned out the restaurant she made reservations at was also beachfront.

And it wasreally fucking nice.

Like live pianonice.

Our table was by the floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the peacefully gloomy beach, adding to the ambiance of the soft piano and chatter around us.

"Hi, I'm Giselle," a cheery voice suddenly spoke, causing me to glance over to the younger redhead woman by our table. She wore a white tucked-in blouse and black dress pants, "I'll be serving you on this lovely evening. Is there anything I can get started for you?"

Monroe glanced to me, silently letting me order my drink first.

I pursed my lips, "I would say water normally, but do you guys serve any other drinks?" I asked, glancing back over to the menu, "Non-alcoholic," I quickly clarified.

Giselle took a step closer to me, "Oh we definitely do," she said, leaning down closer to me as she viewed my menu, "Read over this section," she told me, reaching her manicured finger over my shoulder to point at the menu.

That's when I felt her stare.

Monroe's blue eyes openly analyzing us.

And I immediately knew why—especially with the lack of space between me and this friendly server.

"You seem like a Shirley Temple kind of girl," Giselle joked with a smile, turning her head to meet my stare and leaving our faces a few inches apart.

I nodded awkwardly—

"Perhaps another moment to look at the menu, Giselle?" Monroe calmly spoke before I could, "I'll help her pick out a drink."

Her words were calculated.

There was a subtle passive-aggressive tone behind them, Monroe's blue eyes locked on Giselle who immediately back away from me.

"Of course, I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, blinking almost five times in a row before glancing away from Monroe's precise stare, "Take your time!" she awkwardly whispered before quickly walking off.

I felt so fucking bad.

Monroe can be intimidating on her own—but if she didn't like you it was so much worse.

I learned that after she met Kaia.

"Seriously?" I asked in a lowered tone, glancing to Monroe with a blank look.

"She should've memorized the menu," she casually murmured, her blue eyes trailing my face.

I raised a brow, "And what if she was new Monroe?" I asked, shaking my head at her.

"There's a spare menu on the table," she said, motioning her head to the table where not one, but two menus lay, "It was unnecessary to lean over you."

I pursed my lips into a smile, processing her lowered tone and targeted words.

"Your jealousy is adorable," I purposely quoted her words from earlier.

Monroe lazily raised her brows at my joke, "You say that now, Liberty," she murmured, her stare holding mine.

I tilted my head at her, "I don't know... I kind of like you jealous," I said, my smile growing when she shook her head at me.

"This isn't jealousy, Liberty. That was simply me correcting inappropriate behavior," Monroe clarified, her blue eyes not wavering from mine, "Regardless, I don't do scenes orwarnings. I remove problems before they realize they are one."

I remained silent, feeling my face burn up from her serious statement.

She meant every word she just said—I could see it all over her face.

And I found it so fucking attractive yet almost scary at the same time, especially when her words registered.

"Remove them?" I clarified, glancing down at the menu as I let out a deep breath.

Suddenly it feels really hot in here.

Or maybe it's this topic... her starestill pinning me down.

It's making me feel hot.

"Liberty," she murmured as if my name alone was a warning.

She was silent for a moment, causing me to glance up from the menu and meet her precise stare.

Monroe's eyes trailed my face, tilting her head before she said—

"They disappear."

She didn't elaborate.

She didn't need to.

I knew part of her background—I knew she held influence from her family's background alone.

It's why she's asked to do interviews.

She's not just a therapist.

She has their last name, and clearly, that still means something.

Even if she's across the country.

"The Hawaiian punch," Monroe suddenly said, circling back to the drink topic, "I think you would like it."

I nodded a few times, "Yeah," I whispered, clearing my throat as I tried to focus on anything other than the previous topic.

The menu says the Hawaiian punch is made in-house so I think it would be really good.

"I'll get that then," I determined, setting my menu down on the table as I glanced up to her.

But suddenly I'm thinking about Kaia, and what I've kept from Monroe.

Would Kaia be a problem meant for removing?

I don't think Monroe would care.

Kaia's my best friend anyway and we don't hook up anymore.

She's not a present problem... sort of?

Like she's present in my life, but not in a sexual way.

Monroe won't even find out—even if she and Kaia were in the same room, it's not something that would casually come up.

It's totally okay.

"Liberty."

I blinked a few times, "Yes?" I whispered, zoning in on her stare already locked on me.

And analyzing my face.

"Is something on your mind?" she curiously asked me, opening her hand resting on the table.

I knew it was a subtle invitation to hold her hand.

She only wanted me to meet her halfway.

"No," I quickly said, reaching up to place my hand in hers.

Shivers ran through my body when her hand instinctively wrapped around mine, her skin smooth against mine.

She was so warm around me, almost making my face burn up from the sheer intimacy of something as simple as holding her hand.

"Relax, Liberty," Monroe softly murmured, caressing her thumb against the back of my hand, "I don't go around randomly removing people," she said, picking up on where my head still was.

It's times like this when I hated how well she could read me.

I unconsciously glanced over, noticing a different waitress approaching our table.

The other girl must've switched.

"I apologize for the delays," the younger woman smiled, pulling out her notepad, "What drinks can I get started for you?"

I smiled slightly, "Just the Hawaiian punch please," I told her, pursing my lips as I verged back into my thoughts.

I don't know, I just...

Maybe I should tell her about Kaia?

This weekend would be the perfect opportunity.

And I think I should, especially after what she just said.

I only hope it doesn't ruin our weekend.