My stomach bottoms out. I tug free from Liam’s grip, all eyes on me as a shaky, nervous giggle bursts from me. I mumble something about getting water or air or food—I can’t quite tell what I default to because my mind turns to static, with one objective.
Get out. Now.
I dodge past caterers and finely-dressed guests to the closest door. I shove them open and step into the night. The balcony looks out over the lodge, and laughter floats up from below from guests who didn’t come to the gala and are celebrating with beer and burgers.
Shit. This is what I get for not checking where I was headed. I could hide out here until the party is over, huddling in a corner trying not to freeze to death. Jumping could work—it’s not too far. I go to the railing and check. If I just make sure to aim for the snow instead of the hard stone, I could make it out without any broken legs.
The door opens behind me and I spin to face whoever’s decided to interrupt my impromptu escape.
“I wouldn’t,” Liam says. His expression is placid and unreadable. Does he hate me? I don’t know what else Kurt shared. But I wouldn’t blame Liam if he hated me. My dad put all of this at risk—Liam’s family’s legacy on this beautiful mountain. The legacy he’s giving up his life in New York to pursue.
“What?”
“Jump. It’s farther than it looks and the snow isn’t deep enough to cushion you all that much.”
“Thanks for the advice. Any alternative getaway routes you think I should consider?”
“I’ll walk you out if you want to leave. If Pen and June need a driver they can call me when they want to leave.” He holds out a hand, but I shrink away.
“That’s it? Or are you trying to save yourself from being seen with me?” I demand.
“Fuck. Henri.” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “You want to know what happened when you walked away?”
“Not particularly.”
His gaze holds on me as he takes a step toward me. “I told Kurt and that shit-eating smirk of his that I already knew and that he was an ass for trying to get a rise out of us by exposing that in front of everyone just because he felt like he needed to compensate for his own inadequacies.”
“How long have you known?” Somehow, my pulse finds a way to thrum faster.
“Since the night after our first interview. I asked Jasmine for your last name and looked you up.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
His body quivers with a rumbling unamused laugh.“Because I was pretty sure telling you that your dad’s actions nearly led to my family’s business closing was a sure way to make you uncomfortable.”
“And you don’t hate me for it?” I need to hear it.
“Did you personally tell him what to do? Did you benefit from it at all?” He closes the gap between us and cups my face with both hands.
“No, at least not knowingly.”
“And that’s my answer. I don’t blame you.” The pad of his thumb swipes over my cheek. “I can’t imagine what you wentthrough, but I don’t blame you, not at all. How could I when you’re so fucking perfect?”
Warmth surges from deep within me, chasing away the cold. This is the moment I’ve always been utterly terrified of, when all the pieces of my soul are laid bare for someone to see and I wait for them to turn away, disgusted at what they’ve found. But Liam, oh Liam, he’s seen the shards and handled them with a reverence I can’t comprehend.
“Fuck.” My vision swims with tears. As they fall, he kisses them away until I have no more left to shed. Only then does he pull me to his chest, the stiff fabric of his suit jacket rubbing against my cheek.
“I get to say this, because tonight you’re mine.” He holds me tighter as if he’s scared I’ll run again. “I love you. All of you. I am better because I got to know you. You might hate fate, but I have no other explanation for how we ended up in that cab together on Thanksgiving and everything that came after.”
I don’t—can’t—say it back, even though I know I feel the same way. But saying those words feel too much like goodbye. So I just rest there, listening to the heart of a man who loves me.
After a few long moments, we head back inside, but only because that’s the only way to the exit. We’re done being around other people tonight. Done sharing each other with the world.
With only a few hours left of solitude, we use them to our advantage.
He carries me into his bed and unwraps me like a present. Every touch lingers, every moment drawn out as far as we can take it. We know that this is it—the end that was always going to come.
We both stay up until midnight, breaths catching as one day rolls into the next. Sleep comes uneasily and I wake to a flurry of blankets being kicked off the bed. There’s no time for talking or holding a single moment in the palms of our hands becausewe’ve overslept by thirty minutes and have to rush to make my flight.
