by Emma Wolfe
I glared at her. She was doing this to torture me.
“Cora, I think we need to talk about this,” she said as she motioned to my whole body.
I glanced down and then back up at her. “Why?” There was no way I was going to let Mom sit there and tell me that I needed to move on with my life. She hadn’t wanted me to see Liam in the first place. She didn’t care that Liam seemed completely content to push me out of his life.
“This isn’t healthy, Cora. This moping around. Pining after Liam. You have to get off the couch.” She lifted my hair, wrinkling her nose as she let the clumps fall around me. “You need to shower.”
I wrapped my arms around my chest and scooted as far away as I could on the couch.
“Seriously, Mom? You can’t just expect me to move on.” My heart squeezed at the thought.
It was ridiculous that she thought I was enjoying this. That being dumped by a guy who had literally consumed my every moment since we got here was something I could just get over.
Liam had entered my soul like nothing I’d ever experienced before. He consumed my thoughts. My heart. Losing him wasn’t something that a pep talk from Mom was going to fix.
But I could tell that she was worried about me. And I hated making her feel that way.
We’d been so close before moving here, but now I was being the typical bratty teenager who was pushing her mom away.
So I sighed and straightened, relaxing my shoulders. “I’ll take a shower,” I said, trying to muster a smile.
Mom nodded, and I could see her victory smile starting to form. I pushed off the blankets and stood before it completely emerged. I could go through the motions, but it didn’t mean anything had changed. I was still going to hurt. I was still going to miss Liam.
After a hot shower, I wrapped one towel around my head and another around my body and slipped out of the bathroom. As I padded down the hallway to my room, I paused when I heard someone opening the fridge.
My heart began to pound as I glanced toward the kitchen. The thought of a serial killer briefly entered my mind, but then the image of Liam standing with his father pushed it out.
And then that was all my mind could focus on.
Liam.
My heart took off galloping in my chest, and to my surprise, I didn’t want to stop it. There was a part of me that wanted him to know how I felt. I knew he could hear it.
I hurried back to my room and dressed in record time. I settled on a red summer dress and added a splash of makeup. After glancing at myself in the mirror, I admitted that Mom was right. I looked so much better now than I had an hour ago on the couch.
It was like she had known that Liam would be here.
I adjusted my dress as I stood in front of my door, telling myself to calm down. I didn’t know why Liam was here, and there was no need to work myself into a fit over it.
Besides, maybe he was here just to remind me that we couldn’t be together.
Well, if that’s what he was here for, I was going to fight him. What right did he have to walk away from me? This time, I wasn’t going to let him speak. I was going to be forward and strong.
Determination coursed through me as I pulled open my bedroom door and made my way down the hall. My breath caught in my throat as I paused before entering the kitchen.
Mustering my courage, I thrust my shoulders back and sucked in my breath, hoping I looked more confident than crazed.
Right before I stepped forward to give Liam a piece of my mind, a loud wail sounded from the kitchen, causing me to freeze in my spot.
I furrowed my brow and cocked my head to the side. Did Liam bring a baby with him?
“Ah, geez, I just got you quiet,” a deep voice said.
That wasn’t Liam. I blinked as I tried to process what was happening. And then I realized who was here—I was such an idiot.
It was Chris Larson with our home ec project.
My body began to shake slightly as I leaned against the wall and took in a few deep breaths. I wasn’t sure why I was reacting this way. It wasn’t like I’d had any reason to think that Liam was going to come over.
My stupid imagination had run wild and allowed itself to believe that Liam would change his mind and come back to me.
Once the adrenaline had worn off, I sucked in a breath and made my way into the kitchen.
And just as I had concluded, Chris Larson was standing in the middle of my kitchen, shushing the doll as he bounced it back and forth.
I couldn’t fight the smile that emerged at the scene playing out in front of me. I was pretty sure any girl would melt at the sight of a tall, good-looking guy trying to calm a crying baby—even if the baby wasn’t real.
Chris must have heard me because he turned and shot me a sheepish look. He nodded toward the baby in his arms. “This seems to be the only way to get it to stop crying.”
I chuckled as I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a water. I offered him one, but he just shook his head and nodded to the half full bottle on the counter.
“I already helped myself,” he said.
I cracked open the lid of my bottle and took a sip. Then I closed it and glanced around. “How did you get in here?” I asked, moving to hoist myself up onto the countertop.
Chris patted the doll’s back a few times until he seemed satisfied that it wasn’t going to cry anymore. He walked over to the car seat and tucked the baby inside.
It was kind of adorable, watching him take such care with an inanimate object. I felt a small smile tease the corners of my lips.
When Chris saw my smile, he grinned at me as he shrugged. I tried to straighten my lips out, but it wouldn’t do any good, he’d already seen me smile.
Great.
“Your mom let me in.” He leaned against the counter that ran perpendicular to the one I was sitting on. “She said something funny while I was walking up the stairs, though.”
I turned to study him. Mom? Funny? I took another sip of my water. “What was that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Something about getting you out of a funk?”
I was mid-swallow, and his words startled me, causing me to inhale the water. Embarrassment rose up inside of me, and I spent the next minute coughing up what felt like both my lungs.
Chris looked worried. I could see the concern in his eyes as he inspected my face. “Can I help?” he asked as he moved closer.
I shook my hand toward him, hoping to ward off any interventions he might have in mind. Another coughing fit stopped me from answering, and I rested my hands on the counter as I attempted to stifle it.
After what felt like an eternity, my body finally calmed down. Relief flooded me as I smiled up at him. Chris had stayed close and was looking down at me with a worried expression.
“I’m okay, really,” I said, lifting my hands quickly. As I did, I felt my fingers graze the side of the water bottle. Before I could stop it, the bottle flew forward…and spewed water all over Chris’s shirt.
He yelped and jumped back.
If my face wasn’t on fire from complete humiliation before, it was now. There was nothing that could save me after that.
I jumped from the counter and grabbed all the dishtowels that were hanging on the oven handle. When I approached him, I tried to figure out a plan.
Was I really going to pat down a guy I’d just met? What was the protocol here? Did I help or leave him to drown in the water?
Chris laughed as he accepted the towels, thus solving the problem for me.
He dabbed at his shirt, but it didn’t help. He was still completely soaked.
“Here,” I said, nodding toward his shirt. “I’ll throw it in the dryer. Shouldn’t take too long.”
Chris quirked an eyebrow, which made my skin prick with heat. Hoping he wasn’t reading into the situation, I quickly offered, “I can get you a spare one to wear while you wait.”
But I had barely finished speaking before he had his shirt off and was handing it over to me. His chest
was broad and, like every other boy in Smoky Hills, covered with muscles. My body burned as I tried to not stare directly at it.
He winked as I took his shirt. “I’m good if you are.”
All I could do was nod and then slip from the kitchen to gather my thoughts. As I walked down the hall to the small laundry room, I replayed our interaction over and over.
Was he flirting with me? Was that possible?
Ever since I moved here, the only guy that had occupied my thoughts was Liam. I really hadn’t had time to notice other guys. But maybe Chris had noticed me.
I paused in front of the laundry as I let that thought ruminate. Then, feeling ridiculous, I shook my head and threw the shirt in the dryer. Just as I pressed start, I heard Chris call to me from the kitchen.
“I think someone just knocked on your door,” he said.
Too distracted to process what he was saying, I offered a weak, “Mm-hmm.”
“I’ll get it,” he said.
I slipped from the laundry room back into the hallway and stopped dead in my tracks.
There, standing next to a wide-eyed Chris, was Liam.
14
Cora
I stood there, not sure what to do or say. So many thoughts were running through my mind, and yet, I couldn’t figure out how to say any of them.
“Wh—what are you doing here?” I asked, finally finding my voice.
Liam walked forward, grabbing my arm as he passed. “I need a word with you,” he said.
Startled, I stumbled over my feet as I tried to keep up with him as he dragged me along. By the time my mind caught up with what was happening, I was in my room and Liam was closing the door.
Frustrated that he had, yet again, inserted himself into my life when he most certainly wasn’t wanted, I moved to the middle of my room and then whipped around to face him. I wanted him to feel the full weight of my frustration.
What I didn’t expect was to be met with his concern. He stood about a foot away and was running his gaze over me as if he were assessing me for injuries.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked as he gently took my arms and tried to turn me.
Him being so caring was annoying. I broke his grip as I took a step back. “Of course not. Why would you think that?” I asked.
Liam raised his eyebrows as he looked at me. “His shirt was off,” he growled.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. This was really getting out of hand. “That is none of your business.”
Liam stepped closer to me. “Cora, I understand you’re hurting, but involving yourself with Chris Larson”—Liam spat his name like it was something bitter on his tongue—“is not the way to deal with it.”
I scoffed as I folded my arms over my chest. “Who said anything about being hurt? I’ve only known you a week. I’m annoyed that you called whatever we had off, but I’m not broken up over it.” I stared him down, hoping he’d believe my obvious lie.
Liam pulled back for a moment. I could tell that he was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. And for a moment, I allowed myself to think he believed me. That I just might be able to save face, despite the fact that my whole body was shaking.
Liam paused before he blew out his breath and tipped his face to the floor. “Your heartbeat. It changed,” he murmured, as if that were a good enough excuse for barging in on me. He was acting like the thought of me moving on was hurting him.
And I hated that, but I couldn’t do anything about it. He’d rejected me too many times already.
“My heartbeat?” I scoffed as I turned away from him. It wasn’t fair that he could keep tabs on me from far away, while I had nothing. I was left alone, pining after a guy that would never be mine.
“You’re listening to me?” I asked, turning to look at him.
Liam’s jaw was set, and I could see his muscles flinch from the tension. He clenched his fists at his sides, like it was taking all his strength just to stand there.
“It’s my job to protect you,” he said, still staring at the ground. I could tell he was in pain. That being near me and saying these things, was physically excruciating for him.
I wanted to run to him. I wanted to show him that he didn’t have to stay away. I wanted him next to me. I wanted him to protect me.
But I couldn’t offer my heart to him again when he was just going to turn around and crush it.
“Liam, you have to stop doing this,” I said as I stepped forward, extending my hand in a lame attempt at a peace offering.
He flinched as I neared, but he didn’t move away.
I continued, “I have to move on and so do you. We can’t play this game anymore,” I said—probably more for myself than for him.
He flicked his gaze up to meet mine, and my heart began to hammer in my chest. There were so many emotions running through his eyes that my breath caught. He looked at me with such intensity that I was instantly transported back to the waterfall. Back to our kiss.
My whole body tingled, and it took all of my strength to keep myself from attempting to recreate it.
I knew Liam wanted me as much as I wanted him. I could feel it in the very air around us. He was fighting his feelings for me, like I was trying—and failing—to do myself.
It was hard when we felt so completely perfect together. We had the kind of connection that poets dreamed of.
But I couldn’t allow him back into my life if he was just going to leave. I’d had enough of that after Dad dying. I was still drowning in a sea of grief, and I didn’t need Liam coming and going as he pleased.
If he really wanted to protect me, he needed to leave me alone.
“Is that what you want? To move on?” he finally asked. His voice had turned gravelly and deep. Like those words were hard for him to say.
“Yes,” I whispered. That was all the strength I could muster because there was a bigger portion of my soul that was screaming out, no.
“And Chris is who you want to move on with?” he asked, nodding back toward the kitchen.
I followed his gesture and then glanced back at him. I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’d like to find out.”
Truth was, I had no idea how I was going to move on from Liam. He consumed me, mind, body, and soul. He’d filled the broken pieces of my heart.
Now that he was gone, I was just as shattered as before, but now my heart was hemorrhaging. I doubted anyone could fill that void, but I had to try. And he had to let me.
He held my gaze as if he were looking for the truth. I must have convinced him because he nodded and turned toward the door.
“Liam,” I called out before I could stop myself. He hesitated, his shoulders tightening, but he didn’t turn around.
I pinched my lips together, not sure what I was going to say to him. I felt like such an idiot, calling out his name like that. I mean, I had just told him that I wanted to move on. So why was I trying to stop him from leaving?
“Yes?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder and met my gaze.
I chewed my lip as I tried to figure out a way to say exactly how I felt without actually saying how I felt. When nothing came to me, I just shrugged and gave him a quick smile. “Thanks.”
He furrowed his brow. “For what?”
I clasped my hands as heat permeated every inch of my body. I hated that I was so tongue-tied around him, especially when all I wanted was to be honest with him. To open up and allow him in.
But that was a dream I needed to wake up from. Things between us were over.
“For being my friend and watching over me since I got here. You made my move…easier,” I said as I rocked back and forth.
Liam ran his gaze over me. Just as his eyes swept over my face, he paused. Then he nodded. “Always,” he said as he pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway.
I remained glued to the floor as I heard him speak to Chris on the way out. When the sound of the front door closing filled the air, I let out my breath, finally feeling like I could bre
athe again. I made my way back into the kitchen to find Chris sitting at the table, studying his phone.
His gaze snapped over to me, and he grinned as he set his phone down. “Everything okay?” he asked, moving to stand.
I nodded as I walked over to the sink and grabbed a glass. I’d already made a mess with a water bottle; I didn’t want to chance that again. “Yes,” I replied as I sipped my water.
Chris moved to lean against the counter next to me. He folded his arm across his chest, making his arm and chest flex.
Embarrassment flooded my body as I pushed those thoughts from my mind. That was the last thing I needed to focus on right now.
After I finished the water, I set the glass in the sink and then glanced over at him. All I wanted to do was flop down on the couch and never get up.
“Do you like chick flicks?” I asked as I headed over to the table and grabbed the sleeping doll.
Chris followed after me with his brow furrowed. “They’re okay, I guess.”
I smiled as I hooked the carrier around my arm and nodded toward the living room. “Perfect. Then you won’t complain if I want to watch some.” I patted the doll. “After all, it seems like we might have some time to kill.”
“I—”
But I didn’t wait to hear what Chris had to say. Instead, I made my way into the living room and collapsed on the couch, setting the carrier next to me on the floor.
There was no way I could spend my whole Saturday talking to Chris. He was nice, but my heart was too broken to focus on anything but the heartthrob on the screen who was falling gloriously in love with the heroine.
Those were the kind of love stories that I wanted to think about. Not my broken, non-existent love story where I wanted to offer everything to a guy just to have him turn me away.
Liam
I growled as I paced in the woods outside of Cora’s house in wolf form. There was nothing about the situation I’d just left that made me feel comfortable.
Chris Larson shouldn’t be there, and he certainly shouldn’t be there without a shirt on, playing house with Cora.