Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
The memorial.
I wish I could walk back that wayward thought, but it’s too late. The pain hits, swift and visceral, holding my heart in a vise grip, and for one instant, I forget Sebastian’s alive.
Because no matter the gift of my miracle, my body still remembers what it felt like to lose the love of my life.
I slide into the chair and blink away the tears, put the mask back in place, remind myself that he’s safe.
He’s coming back for me.
Liam takes his spot across from me at the table, his welcoming smile gone—as if he’s attuned to my emotions.
After everything we’ve been through, maybe he is.
“That day at the gazebo,” he starts, then clears the raspiness from his vocal cords, “I wanted to be there for you.”
“I know.” I run my palms down my thighs, smoothing imaginary wrinkles in my skirt. “I guess Oliver has kept me to himself this month, hasn’t he?”
“I can’t say I blame him.” It’s a soft admission, but underneath it lies what he won’t voice.
If given the chance, he’d do the same. In fact, he’s gone to great lengths, taken risks with real consequences, to have me to himself.
A familiar warmth blooms, and I can’t deny that this specific kind of ache has always been reserved for Liam. His unconditional, possessive love lives in my marrow.
“Are we going to play, or do you want to pass the time staring at each other?” I tilt my head with a challenge.
“I don’t mind the view, my sweet girl.” Fighting a grin, he points at the white chess pieces sitting in front of me, waiting like little soldiers facing off in a war. “Ladies first.”
I keep my face neutral and let my fingers hover above one pawn, then another, before finally stopping above the knight. I know exactly which piece I’m opening with, but I want to keep him guessing.
My gaze flicks up to meet his, and we both bluff our way through the stare.
Without breaking eye contact, I change directions and slide a pawn forward. The same pawn he always starts with. His mouth twitches as he mirrors it.
We play in silence for several minutes, sizing each other up with furtive glances. Then I offer up a pawn for him to capture.
“I’ve been thinking about your birthday,” he says, taking the bait.
I consider whether to sacrifice another. “You and Oliver both.”
“He asked you to choose him?”
“Not exactly. He implied he’d like to celebrate with me.”
“I want you to choose me.”
Instead of a pawn, I advance a rook, buying time. “Do I actually get a choice?”
“Yes.”
“So if I choose Oliver, or anyone else…you’ll be okay with that?”
“Hell no.” Shaking his head, he laughs, dark and self-mocking. “But I’ll accept it.”
He steals my rook, and I’m not sure if he realizes that by doing so, he’s left his queen vulnerable in two moves.
I study my options, pretending to decide.
His knee finds mine under the table. A beat later, his fingers slip beneath my chin and lift. “I miss you.”
If I’m honest, I haven’t had room to miss him. My grief took up every corner of my mind this month, with Oliver as a close second. Needless to say, my head’s been crowded.
But a pang of realization echoes through me now. Liam’s a master at stirring me, and the way he needs me, openly and unashamedly, reaches something I’ve spent a long time pretending isn’t there.
I lower my eyes, unable to face him, scared he’ll see the truth through the fractures in my facade. “I’m glad you’re here, and…thank you for pulling me back.”
Without him, I wouldn’t be here, and as soon as Sebastian returns, Liam’s heart will break all over again.
I don’t want to hurt him.
I want to love him.
You do. Admit it.
Another turn passes, and then the board breathes between us.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “On your birthday.”
“Can’t you tell me now?”
Slowly, he withdraws his touch, thumb grazing my knuckles as he retreats. “The library isn’t the place for this conversation.”
A few weeks ago I’d have pushed for more, but I have a secret of my own, and it doesn’t seem fair to press him for his right now.
Besides, he makes me feel safe…even when he shouldn’t.
“I trust you, Liam.” I raise my eyes to his. “I’ll choose you.”
The relief on his face is surprisingly beautiful, especially coming from a man accustomed to getting what he wants.
We linger in the moment, the match on a short reprieve.
He takes his time, and when he finally commits, I’m sure he’s going to pull off a maneuver I can’t foresee—something that will give him the win—because he doesn’t lose at chess.
Not to me.
So when he pushes a bishop across the board, putting his queen on the line and giving mine all the power, I count the seconds to make sure I’m not hallucinating.