Page 66 of Stuck with my Guarded MVP
“At least. I think one of the rookies was blending it into soup.”
He gave me that half-smile again—the crooked one that felt like it came with a secret.
This felt… nice.
Comfortable. Familiar.
Two people catching up over dinner.
I speared a final bite, but paused before lifting it to my mouth. A thought flickered through me. Would it be so crazy?
The way we sat side by side. The candles. The quiet understanding. His eyes on me like I was something he wanted to keep looking at.
For half a second, I let myself imagine it. The way couples looked in restaurant windows. Their reflections layered on top of each other, like a single image.
Us.
Our reflection in the elevator. Enjoying churros from the same bag.
A framed photo.
Of Liam—smiling beside a woman who looked like… me.
Younger. Same eyes. Similar jawline. Same dark hair.
I blinked, trying to make sense of it.
“What?” Liam asked, his brow pinching slightly.
I blinked, like I’d just been yanked out of a daydream. “Nothing. Just…”I looked at him, hesitated.
Should I say anything?
“There’s a photo in your hallway. I noticed it the other day.”
You opened the door, Claire. Now you have to walk through it.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Just sat there, perfectly still, like someone holding their breath.
He knows exactly which photo.
“You were in it.” I set my fork down. “With a young woman. Who sort of looked like a younger version of me.”
The candle between us flickered. Or maybe I imagined it.
“That was Nora,” he said.
And?
He didn’t elaborate.
The name sat between us like a dropped fork. Sharp and sudden.
“She was someone I dated. A while ago.”
Yet there she is.
