Chapter 6
I’ve always been good at cooking. In my past life, I’d bent over backward trying to impress Josh, making him elaborate lunches and dinners to win his approval. But for Liam? I’d never bothered. If anything, I’d sneer at him, mock him for how little he had. It wasn’t until much later that I learned he’d kept the half-eaten sandwiches I threw away, holding onto them like treasures. The shrimp and scallop porridge simmered perfectly on the stove. When it was ready, I blew on a spoonful to cool it down and held it up to his lips. Liam stared at me, suspicion flickering in his eyes, as if I’d laced the food with poison. “Are you going to eat or not?” I asked calmly. Reluctantly, he bit down on the spoon, his gaze dropping, strangely obedient. It was hard to believe that these were the same arms that, in another life, had severed the heads of Josh and Danielle in a fit of vengeance. “Liam,” I said softly as he ate, “have you ever thought about our future?” He paused, watching me carefully. “I’m about to graduate,” I continued. “Your job’s unstable. Why don’t we sell the house and move to the coast? “I want to open a flower shop.” In my past life, I’d never included Liam in my plans. If anything, I’d told him to get lost. But he was the one who raised me. The one who sacrificed everything for me. “Don’t you like flowers, Liam?” I asked, leaning closer. “You always smell like hawthorn…” Before I could finish, his hand darted out, gripping my chin firmly. His calloused fingers brushed against my lips, rough but deliberate. The way he looked at me made my breath hitch. His eyes were raw, burning with a possessiveness he didn’t bother to hide. “What are you trying to say?” “Coast, flowers… Are you planning a getaway?” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “Don’t lie to me, Lila. Please.” The way he said my name, like it was something sacred, made my chest ache. “You know as well as I do,” he continued, his voice trembling, “that the first thing you’d do in a new place… is leave me behind.” … He wasn’t wrong. In my past life, that’s exactly what I would have done. Liam was like a wounded animal, scarred from years of betrayal. No matter what I said now, he’d see it as another trap, another way to hurt him. We stared at each other in the quiet room, the tension thick and suffocating. “Prove it,” he said finally, his voice steady but his eyes pleading. “Prove what?” I whispered. The lights flickered once, twice, and then went out, plunging the room into darkness. And in the darkness, Liam showed me exactly how he wanted me to prove it.
I collided with his chest, his hands catching me by the waist. He was burning. His fevered body radiated heat as he let out a low, guttural sound. Before I could react, his fingers tilted my chin up, and his lips crashed against mine. His mouth was scorching, his fingers trailing down the back of my neck, leaving fire in their wake. I felt like I was melting, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. He wasn’t just kissing me; he was claiming me, tearing down every wall I’d ever built between us. And then, in the middle of it all, I found myself gripping his shirt, kissing him back. Liam froze, his breath faltering before he pressed his forehead against mine, his voice breaking in the silence. “Just like this,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me, Lila.”