Page 61 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

In his arms, I'm not just Shiloh from the legal department; I'm someone cherished, someone desired beyond reason. I think we see each other in a way no one has ever seen me before.

He lingers close, his thumb tracing my lip, sending a ripple of warmth spiraling down to the pit of my stomach. Liam's gaze holds mine, earnest and unwavering.

"I hope you're not busy tonight," he says, his voice smooth as velvet. "I made reservations at L'Éclisse, that new place downtown. Managed to get us on the list."

My heart leaps at the thought of an evening out with him, away from these walls that both protect and confine us. A chance to be just two people in love, if only for a few stolen hours. But the fluttering excitement is quickly replaced by the prickling reality of commitments I can't escape, even for him.

"I wish I could," I murmur, the words weighed down by a tinge of regret. "But I've got a call scheduled with the English department at Trinity College tonight." My voice trails off, and I bite my lip, knowing how much he was looking forward to tonight.

Liam's expression shifts almost imperceptibly, his smile faltering as he glances over my shoulder. Curiosity piqued, he steps past me, eyes landing on the printer that hums with the last remnants of activity. The stack of papers in the output tray seems to draw him in, and he reaches for them without a word.

"Application?" His voice is quieter now, the excitement from moments ago replaced with a different kind of intensity.

I nod, feeling a sudden tightness in my chest. "Yeah, it's all part of the process. I have to get it in by next week." I don't mention how much this means to me, how much I dream of expanding my horizons beyond these office walls—beyond our complicated entanglement.

Liam runs a hand through his hair, the lines of his face softening as he processes the sight before him. It's as though he'sseeing a glimpse into a future where I might not be just a door away, where the rules that forbid us from being together might no longer apply.

"Trinity College," he repeats, almost to himself, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and something else I can't quite place. Maybe fear.

"Right," I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "It's a big deal."

“Do you think you’ll be accepted?" The question hangs between us, and I can tell he's holding his breath.

"I hope so," I admit, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the application papers. "There's an advisor who's really interested in my scholarship on the Brontë sisters and…"

You could come with me.

The words are ripe on my tongue, ready to spill out and invite him into this dream of mine—perhaps even to Dublin itself. But then I see it. His jaw clenches, and a shadow seems to cross his face, like a cloud passing over the sun. Anger flickers there, and those words shrivel up before they ever leave my mouth.

Liam takes a step back, and it's as if he's suddenly aware of the proximity we've allowed ourselves. He smooths down his tailored suit jacket, a gesture that somehow feels like he's straightening out more than just fabric. It's like he's putting a barrier back between us, one that had momentarily slipped.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gives me a curt nod. "Yes, of course," Liam replies, but his voice betrays him, sounding strained. "I'm fine. And don't worry about tonight, Shiloh. I can reschedule the reservation."

I watch him for a moment, trying to decipher the swirl of emotions that seem to be warring within him. Part of me wants to reach out, to smooth away the crease that has formed between his brows, but I know better. So instead, I swallow hard and give him a small smile.

"Thanks, Liam. That means a lot." But even as I say it, I can feel something shifting between us, some delicate balance we've managed to maintain now teetering dangerously. Liam's gaze hardens, and his next words come out clipped, official.

"Shiloh, this isn't a personal printer,” he says suddenly, voice cold. “Please refrain from using company resources for non-work-related matters."

His tone is all business, but it lands like a slap. My heart sinks, the warmth of our earlier intimacy replaced by a cold sense of rejection. I nod mutely, not trusting my voice. Without another word, he turns on his heel and exits the copy room, leaving me in a sudden quiet that feels too loud.

I'm alone with the hum of the machine and the fluttering of papers as they settle into the tray. For a moment, I just stand there, my hands trembling slightly. With a deep breath, I gather the printed application materials, each page feeling heavier than it should.

What did I do wrong? The question circles in my head, a relentless buzz. I thought things were different between us, that the rules no longer applied.

But here we are, back to square one, with him reminding me of my place.

Chapter twenty-five

Liam

I can’t get Shilohout of my head, even if I’m certain she won’t be mine much longer.

As I drive down the familiar streets to Ma's place, my hands grip the wheel a little too tight. It's Wednesday—our dinner night—but my mind is tangled up in thoughts of Shiloh. Her laugh, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she's amused—it's all playing on a loop in my head, and it's driving me mad.

I can't shake the fear that's settled in the pit of my stomach since yesterday when I snapped at her over the damn office printer. It was nothing, really. Just a printer. But it wasn't just a printer, was it? It was the sudden, crippling realization that she could slip through my fingers like sand.

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