Page 24

Hayden

My eyes slowly blink to the bright sunshine filtering in through the curtains. I stir lazily, feeling incredibly cozy under the blanket. My body still aches from all the bruises but at least, I’m warm.

This is new , I think to myself. Even waking up in my dorm room doesn’t make me feel so safe and good.

The living room with its old-fashioned plush couches and floral curtains feels incredibly cozy. The smell of roses lingers in the air, reminding me of my very first visit to this house.

A groan escapes me as I force myself to sit up. A dull pain pulses through my left shoulder and travels down to my side. I wince, rubbing the back of my sore neck.

Something slides from my forehead and falls into my lap.

Surprised, I pick up a neatly folded towel.

Memories of Liam’s soft voice, his hands gliding a cold, damp towel over my heated forehead, cheeks, and neck flood me. He’d been there to wake me up from the nightmare I was trapped in, whispering soothingly to me.

A deep sigh escapes me.

Liam always finds me in my weakest, most vulnerable moments.

I turn my head toward the couch where Liam was sleeping last night but it’s empty. Unease flickers through me. Where could he be?

Lurching to my feet, I drag my battered body toward the hallway leading to the kitchen. Panic erupts in my chest until I hear a faint sound.

Someone is humming.

Reaching the kitchen, I peer in and find Liam at the stove, stirring something on a pan. He’s wearing his usual worn-out hoodie and a pair of shorts but over them, he’s slung a ridiculous flower-pattered apron. The pattern looks faded but it’s clean.

Unaware of my presence at the threshold, he keeps singing and swaying his hips to the tune. He seems to be completely at ease, stirring a pan of eggs with practiced movements. In the corner, steam curls from a fresh pot of coffee, filling the air with its rich, warm scent.

The feeling of absolute calm and safety steals through me at the sight.

Liam jolts, suddenly glancing up at me. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Yeah,” I reply through a rough, parched throat.

Switching off the stove, he stomps toward me and presses a hand against my forehead. He waits for a moment, his gaze grim. “Your fever is gone,” he says as a grin unfurls on his luscious lips. “But you still kinda look like hell.”

A chuckle escapes me as I rub the stubble on my chin. “Yeah...I feel like it too.”

“Come on,” he says, nodding toward the table in the corner. “I made breakfast.” With that, he picks up the dish of scrambled eggs and turns away from me, oblivious to the way my gaze lingers on him.

Liam seems to shine in the golden sunlight coming in through the clear glass windows. He’s so at ease here with me, like all our fighting and arguing never happened. Does he even realize how much he’s behaving like he belongs with me?

A fierce desire ignites in my chest.

I want to wake up to this every day for the rest of my life.

The realization nearly knocks me over.

“Why are you still standing there, Hayden?” Liam calls out with an anxious look on his face. “Aren’t you hungry? Is your fever coming back again?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” I say quickly, dragging my sore legs to the small kitchen table.

I sink into a chair while Liam piles up a plate with pancakes and drizzles them liberally with syrup. Next, he piles up a mountain of scrambled eggs on the side.

“You made all this for me?” I ask, staring at the feast he’s laid out before me.

“Yup. Now, eat,” he says, sliding the plate before me.

The gesture suddenly makes me choke up.

A distant memory I’d long ago drowned surfaces in my mind.

I must’ve been close to ten years old and come back home from an intense practice session that evening. Dad was slumped on a couch with his bottle of whiskey, watching a tape of a game he’d played when he was a professional player.

The stench of whiskey, coupled with the rage in his dark eyes, was enough to keep me silent. I walked into the dark kitchen and went straight to the fridge to find something to eat. For a long time, I rummaged through the sparse contents on the shelves but the only thing I could find to eat was a carton of eggs.

I was too young to cook. Most days, I lived on bread and peanut butter sandwiches, but tonight, I didn’t even have those staples.

I took the eggs out and decided to cook them.

The experience was horrible. My fingers burned when I mistakenly touched the too-hot pan’s rim. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled not to cry. If I complained or made a fuss, Dad would surely beat me up.

So, I persevered. And failed.

The eggs stuck to the pan, turning black while I helplessly tried to scrape the hot pan.

I’d been way too young back then. I had no idea what to do but eat the burned eggs to satiate my wild hunger.

Dad had been in the house but he hadn’t lifted a finger to help me.

All my life, I had to struggle to survive. No one was there to say a kind word or patch up my wounds and injuries.

Until I met Liam, my life was completely devoid of any warmth.

“Hayden, why do you look so pale?” Liam’s voice jerks me out of my thoughts. “Are you feeling okay?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, it’s just—” I let out a sigh, forcing myself to smile. “It’s nothing.” Liam feels bad enough for me. I don’t need to add to his anxiety by telling him about my pathetic childhood stories.

I focus on the present.

At once, my stomach growls at the sight and smell of the freshly cooked meal. “This looks delicious,” I say, eagerly picking up my fork.

The first bite has me moaning. “Did you put something in the pancakes?” I ask through a mouthful. “They taste so damn delicious.”

Liam grins. “I added vanilla and cinnamon to the batter. I was worried you wouldn’t have an appetite, so I did my best to make the pancakes as appetizing as possible.”

Surprise flickers through me.

Liam is so damn cute. And sweeter than the syrup soaking up the decadent pancakes.

“I could eat you up for breakfast too,” I mumble, swallowing a delicious bite.

“What? Did you say something?” he asks, glancing up at me from the counter where he’s filling a mug with coffee.

“Nah, nothing,” I say quickly, wolfing down the food.

“There’s bananas and melons too, if you’d like,” he says, coming back to the table.

“Thanks,” I say, devouring everything in sight as my ravenous hunger overtakes my senses.

I eat everything he puts on the table. Pancakes, eggs, chopped melons and pineapples. I even drink three mugs of hot black coffee.

An amused look comes over Liam but he doesn’t say a thing. He just sits on a chair by my side and watches me eat.

His presence sends warmth washing over me.

I never knew how much I craved someone’s attention like this. I spent so long looking after myself, so long expecting nothing from anyone, that I hadn’t realized how much I longed for someone’s company.

For the first time in my life, I’m starting to understand what it feels like to be at home. And to belong with someone.

Liam, I’m never letting you walk away from me again , I silently vow, gazing into his warm blue eyes.