Page 56 of Liam
Outside the diner, we linger on the sidewalk. Liam reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is gentle, almost reverent. My breath catches, the air between us charged with possibility.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing a text from Jake about our plans for the Halloween party.
The party. The bet. Reality.
I look up at Liam, remembering all the reasons this—whatever this is—can’t happen. We’re friends. Nothing more.
Liam’s expression shifts, a wall coming down that I hadn’t even realized had been lowered. “You should get that,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. “It’s late. I’ll see you at work, Dr. James.”
Before I can respond, he’s walking away, his figure retreating into the night. I’m left standing there, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
I look down at my phone, Jake’s message glowing on thescreen. I should respond. I should go home. I should forget about this night and the way Liam’s hand felt in mine and the memory of the almost-kiss that’s playing on repeat in my mind.
Chapter Sixteen
LIAM
I’m deep in a legal document when the first alarm blares, its shrill cry shattering the quiet of my office at LumiVera. The sudden noise makes me jolt, my pen skidding across the page, leaving an ugly black line like a scar on the pristine paper. Before I can process what’s happening, Marcus bursts through the door, the heavy oak slamming against the wall with a bang that makes my teeth rattle.
“Mr. Valeur, we need to evacuate. Now.”
I’m on my feet in an instant, adrenaline surging through my veins. As we step into the hallway, the acrid smell of smoke hits me, burning the back of my throat.
“What happened?” I demand, my eyes scanning the corridor. Employees stream past us, a tide of panic and confusion. But there’s one face I don’t find, one that matters more than any other right now.
“Chemical accident in the research wing,” Marcus says,his hand on my elbow, trying to guide me toward the exit. “We need to get you out, sir.”
But I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Because Aleria isn’t here.
“Where’s Dr. James?” I ask, my voice tight with fear I can’t quite hide. “Did you see her leave?”
“No.” Marcus’s expression darkens. “Sir, we don’t have time?—”
I don’t wait for him to finish. Instead of turning right toward safety, I pivot left toward the labs. Toward Aleria.
The acrid smell grows stronger as we approach her lab, making my eyes water and sting. Through the glass door, I see her pounding on the door, panic clear on her face. The smoke curls near the ceiling like ghostly fingers, growing thicker by the moment, turning the sterile white lab into a hazy gray tomb.
“Aleria!” I pull my shirt up over my nose and mouth and press against the glass. She looks up, relief flooding her features before fear takes over again. She gestures frantically at the door, and I realize the safety protocols have engaged, sealing her in with the toxic fumes.
“The override code,” I call through the glass. “Do you know it?”
She shakes her head, pulling her sweater over her mouth. Even through the glass, I can see her hands trembling.
Marcus appears behind me with breathing equipment. “Sir, let me handle the door. You’ll need this if we’re going in.”
I snatch the mask, already calculating how long it will take to get to her. The smoke is getting thicker, and Aleria’s movements are becoming sluggish. She slumps against the door, coughing.
We manage to override the lock. I rush in, securing the breathing mask over her face first. Her eyes are unfocused, but she grips my arm tightly.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, lifting her into my arms and turning toward safety. She feels so light, so fragile. “Let’s get you out of here.”
We burst out of the building into the cool night air. The sudden temperature change is disorienting. I sink to my knees, still holding Aleria, unwilling to let her go.
Paramedics swarm around us, but all I can focus on is her breathing—each inhale and exhale a precious sign that she’s alive.
One tries to pry Aleria from my arms, but I tighten my grip.
“Sir, we need to treat you both,” a paramedic insists, her tone brooking no argument.
