Page 12 of Unwrap Me After Dark
I take a breath. “Look, about last night—”
“Let’s just forget it ever happened.” His voice is sharp and final. When he finally looks at me, his bright blue eyes are cold,detached. Not the eyes of the guy who fell apart under my touch last night. Not the eyes of someone I thought, for one stupid moment, might actually want me.
My heart sinks. “Liam, I—”
“I said forget it.” He sets his mug down with enough force that coffee sloshes over the rim. “We were drunk. It was a mistake. End of story.”
I force myself to nod, ignoring the sting of his dismissal. “Yeah. Fine.” I take a sip of coffee, bitter and scalding. “Truce?”
He looks at me skeptically.
“We still have three more days stuck here together,” I point out. “I don’t want to spend them walking on eggshells.”
He doesn’t respond, just takes another sip of his coffee, eyes fixed on some point past my shoulder.
“I need to go into town anyway,” I continue, desperate to fill the silence. “We’re out of food, and I could use some real breakfast. You want to come?”
It’s a peace offering. A way to reset things.
Part of me hopes he’ll say no. Let me escape alone to process the mess I’ve made.
But to my surprise, he nods. “Give me five minutes.”
He disappears back to his room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and cooling coffee. I dump the rest in the sink, not trusting my stomach to handle it.
Ten minutes later, we’re in my car, windows cracked despite the crisp morning air. Liam stares out the passenger window,one knee bouncing. I keep my eyes on the road that leads from the cabin into town, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
The silence chokes me. Usually, I’m fine with quiet. Comfortable in it. But this isn’t comfortable silence—it’s a battlefield where words have been buried like land mines.
“You sleep okay?” I venture, immediately regretting the question.
“Fine.”
I nod, swallow, try again. “Weather’s clearing up.”
A noncommittal grunt is all I get in response.
So that’s how it’s going to be. I give up, flicking on the radio instead. Some pop song I don’t recognize fills the space between us. Liam reaches over and turns it down to barely audible.
The town appears around the bend—a small cluster of shops and restaurants catering to lake tourists and locals alike. I park in front of the grocery store, killing the engine.
“I’ll just grab the essentials,” I say as we walk inside. “Let me know if you want anything specific.”
Liam shrugs, grabs a basket, and heads toward the cereal aisle without waiting for me. Fine. I snag a cart and go the opposite direction, loading up on bread, eggs, lunch meat, chips, and beer. Hangover food. Maybe more alcohol isn’t the best idea, but the thought of three more days of sober tension seems unbearable.
I round the corner to find Liam at the checkout, talking to the cashier. She’s pretty—curly red hair pulled back with clips, freckles dusting her nose and cheeks. She’s laughing atsomething he said, leaning forward in a way that makes her interest obvious.
Liam smiles back at her—actually smiles—and it hits me in the gut. I haven’t seen that smile. Ever. “It’s been nice meeting you, Natalie.”
The way he says her name sends a spike of something hot and unpleasant through my chest. I hang back, watching as she rings him up.
Liam turns, spots me standing there with my cart, and his expression shifts. The smile remains, but it’s different now. Pointed. Deliberate.
Did he know I was looking?
I push my cart forward, nodding to the cashier as Liam steps aside with his bag. She’s less animated with me, scanning my items without the flirtatious glances. I don’t blame her. I’m not making any effort to be charming.
“That’ll be forty-three twenty-seven.”
