Page 8 of Liam

To say that I struck gold with my foster placement would be an understatement. I know, deep in my heart, that I am loved by them because they remind me of it every day. And I adore them back. I may evenlovethem, too. But, I’ve never been able to say the words. Not written. Not verbal. Not to them, and not to anyone else besides Roman. Call it superstition, or even delusion, but I see it asfact—everyone I’ve ever loved has left me, whether by choice or force. I don’t want that same fate with them.

Another alert on my phone grabs my attention, and I’m quick to open the text from Griffin.

Griffin

You left her on read.

You know what that means, Addie…

I giggle to myself as I reply:

Addie

She’s spiraling, huh?

Griffin

Fast. You know she’s concerned about you.

Addie

I’ll call her now.

Griffin

Thanks, AB. Love you.

Surprisingly, the phone call with Dayna is all I needed to get through the rest of the day. I told her about my new job, minus the idiot boy who might come with it, and let her know that everything with Roman is good. She was incredibly encouraging with my decision to leave for summer, stating how important it was that I rebuild whatever relationship I had left with my brother. Dayna was more than a foster mom to me. In the years I’d known her, she’d become my best friend—a bond made easy considering she was only twelve years older than me… two years older than my brother. We told each otheralmosteverything. Our fears, our dreams, our wants and souls’ desires.

Throughout our call, I could hear her clicking away at one of the hundred little fidget clickers she keeps scattered around the house—a sign she was trying to control her unease. I grabbed the one attached to my keys and started doing the same, all the while assuring her, over and over, that I was fine. That I was happy. Because anything else would just cause her worry, and she already worries enough.

I spend the rest of the day listening to true crime podcasts while scanning page after page and organizing the files into folders. It’s slow, monotonous work, which sucks in a way, because it allows me to dive deep into my thoughts, digging up old, forgotten memories of the boy who apparently sleeps only feet away.

Liam hasn’t returned since he stormed off this morning—thank God—because I don’t know how I’d react if he did.

I’d probably punch him.

No, I wouldn’t.

But Iwantto.

A text comes through from Roman, letting me know he’s on his way, and so I make sure I have everything saved and quickly gather the few items I brought with me. I purposely ignore the “studio” part of the cabin when I make my way to the door, and as soon as I step out, I immediately come face to chest with Liam.Great.He’s shirtless, covered in sweat, and it’s obvious he’s just come back from a run or workout.

As much as it pains me to say, puberty plus time has been good to little Liam. He’s no longer the scrawny kid always hiding in his twin brother’s shadow. Now, he’s all grown up, allmanand muscle, and if I leaned in close enough, I’m sure I’d be able to inhale all the testosterone leaking from his pores.

I trail my gaze from his bare chest up to his face, where a thick strand of dark hair falls over his brow. He palms it aside as he lowers his eyebrows, his ocean-blue eyes darkening with every passing second. Clearly, he’s about as happy to see me as I am to be standing here. Though, to be honest, I don’t know what the fuck his problem could be.

I almost roll my eyes at his reaction.

Almost.

Instead, I put on a smile and greet him with a peachy sweet, “Good afternoon, Liam.”

He scoffs, looking over my shoulder as if there’s anything there besides the door I just walked through. “Liam, huh?”

My brow dips in confusion.

He shrugs, his gaze meeting mine for the first time. “What? NoTwincestanymore?”

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