“After the bet,” I repeated, trying to keep the disappointment from creeping into my voice.
That would be three months from now. Could I really wait three months to see her again? Better yet, was I already considering throwing the bet just to see her again?
Holly nodded. “If this thing between us is real, Liam, I need it to be…clean. Not tied up in sibling chaos or a bet. You understand, right?”
“I understand.” I stood and Holly walked me to the door. The distance growing between us felt heavier with each step. I paused at the threshold, my hand gripping the frame as I turned to look at her. “For what it’s worth, I really like you, too.”
Her lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “I figured, which is why we can’t see each other. It’s not fair to you. You need to save your bar, but I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.”
I nodded, stepping out into the cool night air. I couldn’t shake the finality I felt in my chest. Even if I forfeited everything right now, I knew walking away would be the end of us and I wasn’t ready to let go. “Before I go, can I get your number?”
Holly hesitated and gave me a worried look.
“You said we shouldn’t see each other. That doesn’t mean we can’t talk every now and then. We’re friends. Remember?” I was practically begging, she had to see it, but I didn’t care. I let her slip through my fingers once and nearly lost her forever. This time, I was going to hold onto whatever tattered rope I could get.
“Sure.” Holly held her hand out and I gave her my phone. She quickly typed in her contact information. When she handed it back, she whispered, “Bye, Liam,” and let the door close, leaving me standing alone on her porch.
LIAM
Ilaid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, unable to sleep like I had every night since walking away from Holly last weekend. Images of her pretty face danced in my head, vivid and unrelenting—the way her laughter bubbled up during the movie, catching me off guard with its sweetness; the soft curve of her smile when our hands brushed in the popcorn bowl. The vulnerability in the eyes when she said she liked me.
She was a drug and I was thoroughly addicted. I thought texting would be enough of a fix and, for the first few days, it was but as the week dragged on I wanted more. I needed to hear her say something beyond the words that echoed in my mind.“Come find me when the bet is done.”
I groaned, rolled onto my side, and yanked the pillow over my head. Come find her. That single sentence haunted me.
What did she mean by that?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t a rejection—not outright. But it wasn’t an invitation either. It was… conditional. Amaybe, dangling between us like a loose thread I didn’t know how to tie.
I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. It wasn’t fair—this ache, this pull to be near her. I flopped onto my back again and huggedthe pillow with both hands. My heart thudded unevenly as my thoughts spiraled. This stupid, fucking bet was ruining my life.
What should have been a chance to prove that I was more than the idiot little brother who was only useful behind the bar, had turned into something so much bigger. Something I hadn’t planned for.
The rules had been simple: charm a pretty girl into marrying me and they’d each hand over ten percent of their shares. I’d have the most swing when it came to the family business. My brothers would have no choice but to listen and respect my opinions and I’d finally be more than just the baby brother bartender.
The family fuck up.
At the time, the stakes felt so trivial. I literally had nothing to lose. Monetarily, ten percent was a drop in a hat. I was in this for the respect, not the money, but then things got heated and I threw the deed to Abbott's into the pot to prove I was taking the opportunity seriously.
And I was…
Until Holly walked back into my life.
I groaned again, realizing but not wanting to admit I would risk everything that I was fighting for for her. Was that crazy? We barely knew each other.
A moment from the first night we met flashed through my mind and all I could see was her. Her smile. The way she tilted her head when she was trying to hide her curiosity. The guarded look in her eyes that told me she felt just as much as I did, but was scared of getting hurt.
I wouldn’t hurt her. In fact, I had this strange urge to protect her. I wanted her to curl up beside me so I could hold her and tell her I’d never let anyone hurt her again. I wanted to be her rock, the anchor to the lifeboat she hadn’t stepped into yet. And that was my problem.
I was gone for a girl who wasn’t even sure if she wanted me in her life.
I jolted up, the tension that had kept me rooted in bed gone, replaced with a nervous energy that demanded action. Sleep was pointless. I knew what I needed to do, and lying here wasn’t going to make it happen.
Early morning air carried the faint scent of dew and the promise of hope. In a few hours the sun would burn off the last tendrils of winter, but for the next hour or two the outside world was cool, calm, and collected.
The complete opposite of how I felt.
I glanced down at the tissue wrapped bouquet I picked from the flower cart on the corner of eighth and first street. My confidence wavered as I questioned, again, whether showing up with them was a good idea or not. I'd given Holly flowers the last time we were together. Were two bouquets too much? Did they show that I cared, or did they scream desperation?
