Liam sat in his office, staring at his door.

It was New Year's Eve. A party was raging on the main floors of the club. Everyone was happy and laughing and fucking and having a great time.

Yet he was alone. Tori had gone on some vacation, nursing her broken heart. Landon had been dragged off to some jungle, god knew where. Brighton was in Carmel for the holidays, thank god. Her older sister had gotten back into town, but Vieve was at the Twin Estates party. As were Katya and Wulf.

As was Ayumi.

It was nine-thirty. Liam glanced at his watch, then glanced at his office door again. A tuxedo was hanging on the back of it. He'd had it tailored right after he'd gotten back from San Diego, just for the New Year's party. Just for her. It had been delivered to the club the day before, but he hadn't bothered taking it home. He wouldn't be going to any party.

Wulf had fucked him up a little. It was bizarre enough seeing the cold man in Liam's own apartment, but then he'd asked Liam to be his best man. What the shit was that?

He had a distinct feeling it had less to do with the wedding, and more to do with Ayumi. If Liam was the best man, he'd be obligated to go functions. Like, say, an engagement party.

Wulf and Katya were playing matchmaker, and it was annoying. Liam didn't need a matchmaker – he was very good at picking up girls on his own. They couldn't seem to grasp he just wasn't right for Ayumi. He'd been a good time, but little more than that. Maybe she wanted more good times, and he understood, he really did, but he just wasn't interested in a good time anymore. He wanted all the times with her. Good, bad, ugly, and everything in between.

Wulf and Katya didn't get it. They couldn't possibly understand what it was like, being Liam and Ayumi. Both had grown up as shining stars in their own families. Both had received lots of praise and accolades while growing up. Liam had grown up under the impression he wasn't as good as his twin brother, and Ayumi had grown up literally being told she wasn't good, period. So they didn't see the shiny silver lining to the fucked up storm cloud that had been their relationship.

It wasn't all a storm. There were a lot of sunny days and sandy beaches and great surfing and even better company.

He chuckled as he remembered the first time she'd gone in the water. In her ridiculous bathing suit cover. She'd looked like she'd been trying to be incognito. Then throwing her in the ocean, realizing she couldn't swim. Her clinging to him at first in fear, and then in trust.

He didn't allow himself to do it often, but what the hell, it was a holiday. Liam pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the pictures gallery. He skimmed back to the beginning of their road trip and started flicking through the photos.

One of her glaring at him from the passenger seat of the car. She was wearing huge sunglasses, but all the same, he knew she was glaring. She was pissed about being in a shit heap.

There was another one at his parents house. Her looking absolutely terrified as she was surround by all his aunts and cousins. Then another taken from across the room, of her laughing with his mother. She hadn't been aware of him in the moment, and she'd looked completely at ease. Completely at home.

“I really like your family, Liam.”

“Good, because they like you, too.”

He frowned and swiped right. It was a shot of her behind the driver's wheel of the Tempest, smiling so big, she was almost hard to recognize. She looked tiny in the huge boat of a car, but also like she was having the best time ever. Right after he'd snapped the pic, he remembered she'd dumped the clutch and the car had bunny-hopped so hard, she'd rammed up against the steering wheel.

The pictures after that one were the worst. He'd started looking at them one other time, but hadn't been able to get through them. It hurt too much. Shots of them on the beach, laughing, being silly. Hugging. Kissing. Touching.

His favorite was one taken during their drive to Malibu. He'd thrown away most of her stupid tights and she'd been forced to just go bare legged under her shorts. She'd been nervous at first, then she'd relaxed. Stretched her right leg so her foot was sticking out of the car, resting against the side view. At a stop light, he'd turned and captured the moment with his phone. Ayumi, completely at ease in her own skin, not caring for once that her scar was showing. Not caring that her heart was showing.

He was surprised by some of the photos that came next, he'd forgotten taking them. Ayumi standing on the deck of the Air Stream, staring out at the view. Then a close up of her butt as they'd hiked around. One with only her smile in the frame.

Another of them in the shower. How he'd talked her into letting him bring his phone, he didn't know, but he was glad. There was no real nudity, no naughty bits were showing. It was from behind, showing her head down to her lower back. Her hair was all pulled forward over one shoulder, and she was glancing back at him.

Goddamn, she is so stunning.

That was nothing, though.

He liked to capture moments, and some of the best moments he'd ever had were with Ayumi, most of which had been during their date night. She'd worn that amazing dress. Fun and sexy and young. So perfectly her and she hadn't even known it. She'd gone to the Pier with him and done stupid things with him, laughing the whole time. He laughed along with her as he thumbed through the photos. Remembered the rides and the food and her soft sighs of contentment.

Afterwards, they'd gone home and laid on the deck and she'd cried because she'd been afraid of her feelings for him. Liam had never had that kind of power over a woman before – it had scared him, too. He'd wanted to kiss and touch every single fear away. Wanted to prove that he could be man enough, adult enough, for her. Wanted to show her that just maybe they didn't feel good enough on their own, because they were at their best when they were together.

He'd fallen asleep, because that's what good sex did to him. He'd assumed she'd fallen right asleep, too, but clearly she hadn't, because she'd taken a picture of them.

It was hard to see what was going on at first, it was so dark and grainy. The fire had been dying down, it was barely casting a glow over Liam's back. She was on the other side of him, pressed to his chest, her face almost entirely covered in shadows. She was holding his phone up above them so she could capture the moment. Just a simple kiss. It almost looked chaste, her lips pressed to his while he slept.

It was in the dark. He was asleep. He hadn't even known she'd kissed him, let alone taken a picture. Everything had gone to shit the next morning, he hadn't even thought to go through his photos, but she must have taken it so he would find it. She'd used his phone, after all, not hers.

Why? Why would she do that? Hard to use someone for sex or attention when they were unconscious. And he certainly couldn't use her back if he was completely asleep. That's what Ayumi had thought their relationship had been all about, though – him using her to feel good about himself, her using him to feel good about herself. So why a night time kiss? Why a picture?

Because she wanted to capture a moment that was real. That was just us. That couldn't possibly mean anything at all ... except it meant everything.

“It's not that she thought you weren't good enough for her, Liam,” Wulf had said. “That wasn't her issue. She thought you were too good for her.”

That's why she'd taken a photo in the dark. That's why she'd kissed him when he hadn't known about it. Because she was scared and she was frightened and she was ashamed of herself. So it was only when he wasn't looking that she'd been able to truly share herself with him. She hadn't known any better.

No one had ever taught her.