His blue eyes spell out his misery. “Because I didn’t want you to know.”
Hurt grips my vocal cords, making my throat feel thick with pain.
I come to my feet in an instant, frustration oscillating inside of me like a wrecking ball. I’m trying really hard not to be mad. It’s harder than I thought. “Yet you knew it was me—Mabel—all along. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me Bel. Nobody butyoucalls me that.”
Liam surges too and it really registers in my mind that it’shim. Liam, who I’ve been dying to see for two years. Liam, who’s been my pillar of strength for two years. Liam, who has evaded all my attempts at seeing him.
And when I look past the physical appearance, I realize that the way he’s been acting towards me for the last half an hour—kind, protective, a bit shy—is very muchmyLiam. As well as his love for building things. Still, there’s no way I could have recognized him considering he’s never let me see a glimpse of him.
“How did you know I was Bel?” I whisper.
He shakes his head, having the decency to look ashamed. “I’ve always known how you looked, babe. You weren’t hard to find online.”
Essentially, he stalked my Instagram and never told me in any of our texts. Nice. I obviously wasn’t hard to find since my bio contained a short description—20, Canadian Filipina model, marketing student—and Liam, as we established, knows me like the back of his hand.
He doesn’t have social media—or at least, that’s what he told me—so it’s not like I could have ever returned the favour. Hell, I’ve gone through many Liam O’Connell accounts, but there’s no way I could have known which one was his.
Betrayal burns like acid in my stomach.
“Yet you never gave me the courtesy of knowing how you looked.”
My sharp words cause him to wince. Good. I want him to feel the hurt I’m feeling. It may be irrational, but I hate how hoodwinked I feel right now.
“Is this some kind of joke to you? You know how long I’ve been wanting to meet you, Liam, and I’ve done everything in my power to show you that you can trust me.” The words are wrenched out of my chest and drip with anguish. “I was so upset when you canceled tonight, saying you couldn’t make it. But here you are in the flesh. Shit, Liam, younevereven told me you worked at MacGregor. Do you know how bad this looks?”
The time we shared just now feels cheap. I feel played and I wish I could make myself see past the red blurring my vision.
“Bel, please.” Liam steps forward and his scent—pinewood and something utterly masculine—envelopes me. I can’t think straight with him so close, clouding my thoughts. “I hate that I’ve upset you. This isn’t how I wanted things to go.”
“Then tell me what was going through your mind when you sat here and talked to me like I was a stranger to you,” I grate. “Make me understand why you lied and introduced yourself as Lee instead of Liam.”
Liam’s hand reaches out. I don’t grasp it back. Hurt, he drops it to his side. I loathe that I ache seeing this big, gorgeous man in pain because of me.
Anyone can walk by and see our showdown in the hallway. Suddenly, I’m feeling exposed and extremely uncomfortable. I hate confrontations. I just want to be transported back to my room in the safety of my bed with my cat.
“I knew you were coming tonight, but I wasn’t ready for you to meet me, Bel,” Liam says regretfully. My entire body jolts. “Then I saw you get hit and I couldn’t stand to see you hurt on my watch. So I offered you some ice and…I wanted to be close to you. I’m aware I screwed up this whole situation, but I swear it wasn’t my intention. Please believe me.”
I’m still reeling from what he said before. “Why weren’t you ready for me to meet you?”
“I can’t explain it.” His hand roves down his barrel chest and belly anxiously. “I’m sorry.”
At the end of the day, I can’t force Liam to speak his mind if he doesn’t want to. It hurts like hell, and I give up.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore,” I retort, shaking my head. “Thanks for the surprise reveal, Liam.”
His blue eyes go wide. “Bel—”
I’m already whirling around and marching down the hallway, heading straight for the bar. I need to call Kennedy and tell her that our forty minutes are over. I held up my end of the bargain.
I can’t be here anymore.
Liam is still calling out to me. I hear his loud footsteps as he approaches. I pick up speed until I’m practically fast-walking slash jogging in my heels.
This isn’t how I thought our first meeting would go.
The hurt in my chest spreads like wildfire through my body until I’m consumed by it. It’s fueling my desire to run away from Liam and this so-called friendship of ours.
“Bel, wait, please!” he shouts.
