Page 101 of Sugarlips
He came at me so fast that I startled, pulling back as he cupped my jaw and inspected me. “Are you okay? What happened? Was anything stolen?”
“My text,” I whispered.Shiiiiiiit. It must have accidentally sent when my phone fell down the stairs.
“Yeah, I rushed over as soon as I got it. Are you okay?”
No, I wanted to say.
I’m so not okay.
Even though it had only been thirty hours since I’d last seen Liam, it felt like a lifetime ago.
And while I knew I looked rough, Liam wasn’t looking so hot himself.
No, wait. I take that back. Liam always lookedhot. But he looked upset. His eyes were swollen and rimmed red. His hair was unwashed and messy. He was wearing his high school track t-shirt; the one that I know he only sleeps in when he wants something familiar and comfortable.
“I’m fine,” I choked. “I didn’t mean to send that text.”
Confusion marred his beautifully masculine features. “What?”
I sighed. “The intruder was Elaina. I didn’t know she was coming home early. And I had typed in that text message… paused, realizing I needed to delete it, when I got scared and dropped my phone down the stairs.” I crossed to the bottom of the stairs where my phone was still laying face down. “See? It must have accidentally sent during the fall.”
He rubbed at his jaw, his gaze settling on my mouth. “So, you’re okay?”
It felt surreal, after all this time, to have Liam in my house and feel like he was a stranger. He had fit so seamlessly into my life from day one—or at least, I thought he had. Had I just imagined it? Could it be that I’d always been comfortable with him, but he’d never quite fully been himself around me?
Just the thought made my stomach turn over itself.
“Iheardyou when you said we need space. I shouldn’t have texted you. I’m sorry.”
I said those two words, that apology, and it applied to so much more than just this morning.
“Chloe, if you’re in danger or hurt, you can always text me. I’d rather that than—”
I shook my head. Though the movement was silent, it cut him off mid-sentence anyway. His voice was too soft. Too considerate. Too sweet. And it grated my nerves.
“No,” I said, firmly. “That’s not your job. You’re not my person anymore.”
A pang stabbed my chest at the wounded look in his eye, but I’m not quite sure what he expected. He was the one who walked away. Who told me I needed to find myself and gain my independence. Not that he was wrong, but he also didn’t have the right to be hurt over me doing exactly what he’d asked me to do.
I tilted my chin higher and hardened my gaze. “I promise it won’t happen again and I swear that while we’re baking and working the food truck together, I’ll be professional.”
He angled his head back, peering at me with his bright green eyes. “About the food truck. Finn is going to take over my duties there. Just for a couple weeks while we sort all this out.”
All this. I dragged in a deep breath, trying to ignore just how deep that blow resonated in my body. If this was a boxing match, I think that would’ve had me down for the count.
“Oh,” I whispered. It was all I could think of to say.Oh. I shook my head, clearing the thoughts away. “Wait. The food truck isyourdream.Ican step away—I’ll handle the marketing from afar. That way you get to still do what you love.”
He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, the corners of his eyes squinting ever so slightly in the way he does when he’s thinking. “Why don’t you handle Sunday through Tuesday with Finn. And I’ll do Thursday through Saturday? It’s even that way, and we both get days off.”
I tried to untangle the emotional knot that was thick in my chest. “Who will you work with? You can’t do it alone—” It was practically painful to step away from him. To imagine him working our food truck with anyone else.
“Remy can help me. And if not, I’ll manage on my own.”
I smoothed a trembling hand down my khaki shorts to help calm my jittery nerves. “Okay, then. I’ll… see you around.”
Except Iwouldn’tbe seeing him around.
And judging from the hard edges framing his frown and the tension around the rims of his eyes, he knew this, too.
