“Why are you blushing?” I ask.
“We’re, uh, still naked.”
I wiggle my eyebrows, and she giggles, a little shy. I put a finger under her chin and made her look at me.
“Hey. Don’t ever be embarrassed around me. Last night was perfect.”
She licks her lips and gives me a grin. “Itwaspretty spectacular.”
“Well, I mean, minus the parts that came after having three mafia goons on my lawn. That part wasn’t awesome.”
“Okay, fair. But Liam, it’s okay. I might have been freaked out if you hadn’t told me about what’s going on. But you did, and everything was fine.”
“It could have been...not fine.”
“But it was fine. So let’s let it go. We had a great night together, and I’m thankful for it. I missed you. I missedthis. And there’s always a solution, right? Let’s sit down and talk it through; maybe we can figure out a plan. Together.”
My heart hurts at her words.
The fact that she would want to help me figure out how to get out of the situation my dad put me in is so Emma. She has always been a helper, a critical thinker, and a problem solver, especially for me.
But this isn’t her problem to solve; it’s mine.
“What your sister said?—”
“My sister’s protective,” she cuts in, gently but firmly. “Always has been. And I love her for it. But she doesn’t get to decide how I feel, Liam.”
I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t ease. “She’s not wrong, though. Emma, I’m not good for you. I never was. All those years ago, you were the one keeping me afloat when it should’ve been the other way around. And now? We’re adults. You’ve got a career, a child. A life that doesn’t need my shit interfering.”
“What are you saying?” she asks, her voice suddenly tight.
“Maybe this was a?—”
“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.”
I swallow hard. “A mistake.”
Her jaw clenches, her eyes flashing. “Bullshit, Liam.”
I open my mouth, but she steamrolls right over me.
“You know that’s bullshit. We’ve been talking for weeks, opening up. This wasn’t just sex. We still have whateverithas always been between us. It’s all still there, and you know it.”
She sits up, the sheet slipping down her back. “I should’ve never walked away back then. I thought I was doing the right thing. I tried to start over, to forget you, but the second I saw you again, it all came rushing back. And I don’t want to live with regret anymore.”
I let out a breath I think I’ve been holding for six years. She regrets walking away. It doesn’t undo everything, but it’s a beginning.
“Don’t push me away,” she says, more quietly now. “It won’t work.”
She rolls out of bed and stands, naked and determined, with her chin held high.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says. “Then I’m making us breakfast before I go.”
She walks to the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.
A few minutes later, the shower kicks on.
I stare at the ceiling, heart pounding, mind spinning. Then I force myself out of bed.
