Bree

I was released from the hospital two days later. The whole time, Liam stayed with me. It was strange at first, but ever since our conversation in the hospital, I tried to distance myself from him, at least emotionally.

“I’m so sorry—so fucking sorry, babe, for dragging you into this damn mess.” It was the first thing he told me, as he dragged a hand through his hair, pacing around the room. His shoulders were stiff, his expression hard.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”

“I was searching for my cousin. And I found him, but he…” He stopped and let out a breath. “They found out, and you got involved in it.”

Something clawed at my heart as he said the words. That’s why he felt the need to comfort me now. Out of guilt. He was a nice guy, always helping everyone. He always had been. I didn’t know why I thought I’d be any different.

* * *

“He’s just feeling guilty,” I said as placed the baking tray in the oven.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kiera replied, rolling her eyes. “He completely lost his shit when he found you. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Second time this happened in Fortuity, too.”

“But—”

She gave me a stern look that stopped me. It was the one she gave me when she put her foot down and gave me her honest opinion about something.

“Let me go count all the things why it’s not out of guilt, Bree—first, he goes out of his way to meet your grandma. Second, he rescues you like something out of a freaking movie with his badass friends. He fills your table with red roses. Then he stays with you after you leave the hospital to make sure you’re okay. Gee, I don’t know, but to me, that sounds a lot less like a responsibility than someone he genuinely cares about.”

When I was in the hospital, he gave me a bouquet of large, red roses. It was huge. It also looked expensive. But I was flattered, because they were from him, and it was the first time he gave me flowers. It meant something to me. Only, maybe I was reading too much into it.

While I understood what Kiera had said, but there was fear in the pit of my stomach that I’d fallen too far in. There was no going back for me, for the person he was unlikely to fall for, and in the back of my mind I could still hear his words from the party weeks ago—I’m not promising a relationship.

* * *

When I went home, I found him eating a sandwich as he flipped through a page in the local paper.

“Hey.” I couldn’t help but smile. It was like he lit up the darkest corners of my day, lighting them up and burning them all at once.

He looked up immediately. “Bree.” His answering smile made my heart beat faster.

All we did was share a night together a couple of days ago. A pretty intense, life-changing one, but that was it. That was all it ever was.

My smile died.

I got changed quickly and grabbed my car keys as I went out. “I need to go, um, buy a few things.”

I didn’t have anything to buy. But I needed space to think, and I needed to give my heart a rest.

His eyes, distracted, cleared, replaced by confusion. "Where? I can drive you."

"I'm fine,” I told him. “And you don't need to do that."

"Yeah, I don't. I want to.”

He took my hand in his. My heart stuttered in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t do it like this. He was wonderful… But he was also not looking for a relationship. “Liam. Stop."

He stilled almost immediately. “Why do you keep doing that?” he asked.

He looked like he was choosing his words carefully before he spoke. “Every time the topic gets personal, you shut me off.” He stroked the back of my hand. “It’s been happening since you left the hospital.”

“I—” I stopped. I pulled my hand away, releasing a breath. “I can’t talk about this right now.”

“No,” he said, walking closer towards me. “Tell me.” His eyes glittered in anger. “Why are you so sure this will fall apart?”

Because after this, then you’ll be gone from my life.

“Look, I can't do this.” I waved a hand around, indicating us. Maybe it was better not to drag this out. “You're not promising forever. You told me that once, and I’ve never forgotten it. You're a nice guy, Liam. I don't want you to do this out of guilt or some misguided sense of obligation.”

I let the hurt bleed in my voice, letting him see everything I was feeling. Because for once, I needed him to hear it.

“Hell, Bree, you think I went all the way there, because I want to fuck you?”

* * *

Liam

Guilt? Obligation?

She’d built her defenses up, and I didn’t even realize it at first. She averted her gaze. I wasn’t about to let her slip away. No fucking way.

“You’ve been holding back the past couple of days. Yeah,” I said, watching the way her eyes looked startled as they met mine. “I noticed. You didn’t think I would, did you?”

“No,” she replied softly.

She didn’t look angry. She looked upset. And I didn’t know what the hell to do.

“I thought—I thought you were just staying to be nice. Because you felt guilty about the whole thing.”

“Nice?” I repeated, stalking towards her. “Bree,” I said, my voice a near growl. “I’m not being fucking nice.”

I had a lot of people tell me that, but never someone I wanted—no, needed—this badly. “Tell me, what relationship do you think we have?”

“A no-strings one?” She phrased it like a question, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

No-strings? She had to be kidding.

“Fuck.” I held her face in both hands, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. “This is not casual,” I declared. “I’ll spell it out, babe, so you understand. There’s nothing casual about this. There’s nothing goddamn casual about what I feel for you. Ever since I first saw you in that bakery, you reeled me in, first with your eyes, then your laugh. Then next came your sweetness.”

I pressed my lips against hers, tasting her. She was all soft and perfect, and her eyes flickered shut, her lips yielding as she let me in.

“Bree,” I pulled back slightly, making sure she understood it plainly. “I…. Love… You…” I punctuated each word with a kiss. She sighed against the kiss, melting in my arms.

“Me, too,” she replied. Awe spread in her expression, like she couldn’t believe this was real.

So I gave it to her, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Believe it.”

* * *

“I got something for you,” I said as she placed a roast in the oven. “Been working on it for a while. I didn’t know when to give it.”

She followed me out the door, and gasped when she saw it. She ran a hand over the back of the oak bench that sat on her porch.

Her arms flung around me.

Was she crying?

She pulled back, her eyes wet.

“Glad you like it.” I swept a tear from her cheek, wishing I could take away what was hurting her.

“I’m happy,” she tried to explain. She sniffed. “Thank you. I’ve never—in my whole life, I’ve never gotten anything like it.”

I chuckled. “I hope not. I made it myself.”

She bumped my shoulder, her cheeks tinged pink. She sat down carefully, as if she was afraid it would fall apart.

“It won’t break, babe. The wood’s strong.”

She quickly wiped away another tear, marveling at every curve. I sat next to her. She dropped her head on my shoulder, her hand reaching for mine. I closed mine over hers.

Her voice was choked with emotion as she said softly, “It’s beautiful.”

But my eyes were all on her. “Yeah,” I breathed out.

She looked up at me, sensing my eyes on her, and I saw the moment she understood what I’d meant.

A bubble of laughter escaped her lips. Sweetest sound in the fucking world.