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Chapter Forty-Eight

I hadn’t meant to ambush him.

I’d spent the car ride rehearsing what I would say without making him defensive, how I could say it without coming across too strong. How I could segue into it in a natural way without irritating him after he’d already had a long day.

God, I didn’t want to ask him. The thought of confrontation always left me a little shaky, but this was Liam. Cool, level-headed, calm, and collected Liam Brynn ,who must have an explanation for why he punched my ex-boyfriend in the face.

But I needed to know.

Apparently, I needed to know so badly that the second I opened the door and saw Liam sitting there at the counter, my entire plan of nonchalance went straight out the window.

“You’re home late,” he said, staring at me with a look of concern. “I was getting worried.”

“Did you punch Dave?” The words flew out of my mouth, and before I could apologize and take it back, because of course he wouldn’t punch Dave , I watched as his face went pale, and I knew.

“What?” he asked, his face expressionless.

“He told me you did, so I’m asking you.”

“You talked to him?” His jaw clenched.

“I saw him,” I said, feeling a little breathless as I watched Liam stand up and pace. “Just now.”

He was silent for a minute, pacing back and forth with both his hands on top of his head. I followed his movements, heart racing in my chest.

“Why?” he asked, pausing to look at me.

“Why what?”

“Why did you see him?”

“He showed up at my work. He wanted to talk.”

“I’m sure he did.” Liam snorted. “But why would you give him the time of day after everything?”

“I couldn’t just walk past him and pretend he didn’t exist. I owed it to him to hear him out.”

“You owe him nothing, ” Liam countered, angrier than I’d ever seen him. “I can’t believe he even had the audacity to show up and try.”

“So, it’s true then?” I asked, holding my breath. “You hit him?”

“Yes,” he bit out.

I held my face in my hands. “Oh, Liam. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You care about him that much still? After everything he did to you?”

“No, you idiot,” I yelled. “I don’t care about him. I care about you! You could’ve gotten arrested for that! It already made headlines because of who you are.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“You should,” I told him. “It’s your career.”

“It’s you. ”

My breath hitched; not sure what he meant by that.

“You told him we were dating?” I asked.

“Yeah, I did,” he said without apology.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted him to leave you the fuck alone, but clearly he didn’t get the message.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “He didn’t bother me.”

He couldn’t bother me even if he tried because Dave didn’t mean anything to me anymore.

“So, what did you tell him?” Liam asked.

“I told him the truth.”

Liam let out a sardonic laugh. “And what’s that, Cass?”

“That you’re my friend’s brother and you’re letting me stay with you.”

Liam’s face tightened, and he walked in the opposite direction. I followed him, needing to understand whatever piece of this story I was missing.

“Why do you care if he talks to me? Are you trying to protect me? Because I don’t need you to save me from Dave. Not at the cost of your reputation or your career!”

“No, .” Liam spun. “ He doesn’t get to do this! He doesn’t get to want you when it’s convenient for him. That’s not how love works.”

“It wasn’t your call to make.”

“Are you seriously telling me you would’ve taken the guy back?” His face dropped. “Did you?”

“No, I didn’t!” I said, crossing my arms. “But it would’ve been nice to know that I had the option if I needed it.”

“Screw that, .” He fumed. “You don’t need that asshole as a safety net or whatever the hell you think you needed him for. He’s a dick, and the best thing he ever did for you was let you go.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, furious. “If you don’t want me to be with him, then tell me who you think I’m supposed to be with.”

“No one!” Liam shouted. “I don’t want you to be with anyone! And I sure as hell don’t want you to think of me as just your friend’s brother!”

It was my turn to walk away because I couldn’t bear to let him see the look on my face at that moment.

“Wait,” he said. “, I’m sorry.”

But I kept walking. I didn’t know what was happening between us and I was scared. I was scared of how I felt about him, scared of not knowing how he felt about me. Scared of losing it all the way I seemed to lose everything.

“I’m fine,” I told him, “I’m tired.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, voice right behind me.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Don’t pretend you’re not pissed when I’m the one who screwed up. You get to be mad, and you don’t have to worry that I’m going to walk away just because you’re upset with me.”

I froze. How did he know? How did he always seem to understand what I was feeling and thinking and worrying about? How had he managed to cut through the surface of everything I was without even trying?

For my whole life, I’d wanted to be seen and understood and noticed, and here was the most beautiful man I’d ever met looking at me like I wasn’t some puzzle he had to learn but some innate thing he’d always known.

“So yell at me,” he continued, staring down at me with eyes so soft I could melt. “Scream at me. Hit me if you want. I can take it.”

“I don’t want to hit you,” I whispered.

“No?” he asked, bridging the gap between us, until we were chest to chest. “So what do you want, ?”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes—like he was scared of the answer I might give.

I let myself look at him, at this face that had become so familiar to me, and before I could stop myself from doing something that had the potential to ruin everything, I surged forward, grabbing hold of him like a life raft in the sea, and I pulled his lips to mine.

For a horrible, agonizing moment, he stilled. Like a statue beneath my touch, Liam froze, and I was convinced my worst fears had come true. I’d ruined everything. I’d made assumptions that were wrong, and now I had destroyed the one good thing I had going for me.

Face flaming in shame, I moved to rip my lips off of his, to apologize, and run immediately to the closest place I could change my name and identity.

But then, he was pulling me in. Impossibly closer and, oh God. He was kissing me back.

I whimpered against his lips, and he groaned, fingers lacing through my hair as if he wanted me the way I wanted him.

I couldn’t handle it, couldn’t get enough oxygen to my lungs as every fiber of me was overwhelmed with the feeling of him.

I pulled away, looking up at him to try and make sense of what was happening. He stared down at me, green eyes wide and glazed over as if he didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten here.

Somehow, I understood the feeling.

“You kissed me,” he stated as if he hadn’t processed it yet.

“You kissed me back,” I said, letting a finger come up to touch the lips that had just been on his.

“Do it again,” he said, breath warm against my face.

That was all it took for us to collide once more.