Page 42 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
I hesitate as I adjust my earrings — small, gold hoops that feel a little too bold for my usual style, but I wanted to try something different tonight. After all, I still don’t know where we’re going, but Liam promised dinner.
Dinner. Just dinner.
I swallow against the knot in my throat, trying not to overthink it. But it’s hard. My mind keeps drifting back to last night, to the way he looked at me when we were standing on the beach. The kiss we shared, soft and tender, a moment that felt almost timeless. I’ve never felt this way before, and yet, here I am — conflicted, unsure.
I’m not ready for whatever’s happening between us, but every time I think I should pull away, I just... can’t.
I sigh, stepping back from the mirror. I should stop overthinking this. It’s just dinner. Nothing more.
I pick up my clutch from the counter, my fingers brushing over the fabric, steadying myself. Then, I hear the knock on my door.
My heart skips.
I take a deep breath and move toward the door, reminding myself to stay calm. But when I open it, I’m met with Liam standing there, looking as dashing as ever.
His eyes scan over me, and for a moment, I swear I can feel him looking right through me. The way he stares at me makes it feel like time slows down, and I can’t quite breathe.
"Wow," he says, his voice low, almost a whisper. "You look... stunning. As always."
The words catch me off guard, and my cheeks flush. I thank him, my voice a little softer than I’d intended. "Thank you, Liam. You look great, too."
He smiles, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes. A soft intensity that makes me feel like I’m on the edge of something I don’t quite understand.
Then, he holds out a bouquet of white roses, the petals soft and delicate, their fragrance filling the space between us. "For you," he says, his tone sincere.
My heart swells at the gesture. "Liam, you didn’t have to..."
He interrupts me gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I wanted to."
I take the flowers, my fingers brushing his as I do. His touch sends a little jolt through me, but I push it down. I can’t get lost in this. Not now.
"Are you ready?" he asks, still standing there, his gaze unwavering.
I nod, my heart racing. "Just need to put these in some water and grab my purse again."
"No problem," he replies, stepping aside so I can move past him.
As I grab the clutch from the counter, I notice something that catches me off guard — this is his first time in my place. I’ve been so focused on everything else; I hadn’t realized that he’s never been inside my apartment.
It’s not much. Just a small space I’ve set up since I came to Ocean Bay. There’s nothing extravagant about it. Nothing even remotely close to what my life used to look like.
I watch him as he steps inside, his eyes scanning the room. He doesn’t say anything right away, just observes.
"You arranged this yourself," he finally says, his voice quiet. "It looks good."
I can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. "Thanks," I reply. "This is the first time I’ve set up my own place, actually."
He raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "The first time? But I thought you’d worked on your previous apartment..."
I hesitate, the lie rising in my throat. How could I explain that I’ve never actually lived in a space like this? That I’ve always had help, always had people to do things for me. It’s easier to lie. Easier to pretend I’ve had the same kind of life everyone else has.
"Yeah," I say, trying to sound convincing. "I just... took my time with this one. Made sure it felt right."
He seems to accept that, nodding slowly. "Well, I think it suits you."
My chest tightens. It’s such a simple thing, but it feels important. The way he looks at me, the way he sees me as I am, not as some version of myself I’ve created for the world.
But there’s an underlying sadness in my chest as I stand there, trying to keep the conversation light. This place, this tiny apartment, is a reminder of what’s coming.
