Cassie just stared at him, her expression unreadable. “Well. That’s going to be inconvenient.”
Liam barked out a laugh he didn’t mean, the kind that slips loose when you are too wrung out to hold anything in. It wasn’t funny, not even close, but once it started he couldn’t stop. His shoulders were shaking with the sheer misery of it. Cassie stared for a beat, then snorted, and suddenly they were both laughing at nothing. Laughing until it left them breathless and grinning at each other across the table—because what else were friends for?
Chapter 10
Liam
The first week of shooting was almost over, and he was already tired down to the bone. Not the exhaustion of long days and late nights, not the ordinary grind of set life—this was the kind of tired that came from feeling too much and pretending he wasn’t.
He was sitting in the nursery, surrounded by pieces of wood and screws that refused to make sense. The crib stood half-assembled in front of him, more accusation than furniture. A manual dangled from one hand, a screwdriver in the other, but neither had been put to use in thirty minutes.
From the hall came the sound of Emma humming to herself—folding laundry or unpacking one of the endless baby boxes their friends kept sending. This was supposed to be his moment to feel like a husband, a soon-to-be father, a man who had his shit together.
The manual flipped limply in his hand.Step three: tighten bolts B into side rail C using the wrench provided.He picked up the wrench, turned it over, and let it clatter back to the floor. The words meant nothing. The pieces blurred. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, pressing his fingers to his temples. Breathe in. Breathe out.
The door creaked, and Emma leaned in, her smile soft and her eyes warm. “You good in here?”
He looked up, forcing something close to a grin. “Yeah. Just figuring out how many ways I can screw up a crib before the baby even gets here.”
She laughed. The soft, familiar sound that always used to make him feel steady. “You’ll figure it out.”
He nodded and watched her disappear down the hall. He didn’t move. Didn’t touch the tools. Didn’t even open the manual again. He just sat there, staring at the unfinished crib while his pulse dragged heavy in his ears.
He wasn’t thinking about cribs or babies or paint colors. His mind was elsewhere, caught on rough hands gripping his jaw and piercing blue eyes that stripped him bare.
He was fucked.
The worst part was knowing that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be saved from it.
***
That evening was the official kickoff party—one of those glossy, over-budget gestures from the producers, meant to dazzle and make everyone feel important.
The ballroom of a downtown hotel had been dressed up for the occasion. Strings of golden lights hung from the exposed beams, and waiters drifted through the crowd with trays of champagne. Later, there would be speeches to mark the night as a milestone. Behind the building, a manicured garden unfurled around dark stone paths, lit by torches that flickered like something magical.
Emma walked in on his arm. A soft pink dress skimmed her curves and her dark hair was pinned up. Her hand rested gently on her stomach—just over six months along now—carrying aglow that seemed to follow her everywhere. He was glad she came, though a small, selfish part of him wished she hadn’t.
The room buzzed with the kind of chaos only a mixed crowd of actors, producers, and stressed-out department heads could create. His hand stayed pressed to the small of Emma’s back, but his eyes kept drifting—over shoulders, past champagne flutes, scanning for someone he’d promised himself he wouldn’t look for.
Then Jacob arrived. No spotlight or fanfare, but all of a sudden the room felt different. He walked in with Caroline at his side, her hand easy on his arm, her smile poised and perfect. She wore a striking red dress, her lips painted in the same vivid shade. Liam had never met her, but of course he recognized her from the magazines.
Jacob wore black from collar to shoes; even his tie was black. He managed to look both sexy and dangerous, something Liam was suddenly very aware of. Against all that darkness, his eyes looked impossibly blue. Just what Liam needed—one more thing to obsess over.
Jacob’s gaze moved through the crowd, calculating and assessing, until it landed on him. For a beat Liam felt pinned, heat crawling under his skin. He broke first, eyes dropping, unable to hold the stare.
He distracted himself with introductions, letting Emma meet a string of producers. The chatter blurred together, words tumbling over each other until he stopped trying to track them. Someone handed Emma a mocktail, and her easy confidence made her blend in like she belonged there. He lovedthat about her. They made sense together. They always had.
At some point she had wandered off by herself and Liam ended up by the bar. He was half-listening to the bartender, one hand wrapped around a drink he didn’t remember ordering, when Jacob took the space beside him.
Liam fumbled for something to say, settling on a weak, “Hey.”
Jacob just nodded, solid and unbothered as he signaled to the bartender.
They stood like that for a moment, the noise of the party wrapping around them.
“She looks happy,” Jacob said after a beat, nodding toward Emma across the room.
“She is.” Liam’s mouth curved. “She thrives on nights like this.”
