Page 76 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, frustration boiling up inside me. I push through the crowd, making my way toward mom.
“Mom, what was that?”
She looks at me with no apology. “Why is that thing back here? For you? Over my dead body.”
“What did you say to her?” I snap at my mom, who is still standing there with a self-satisfied look.
She shrugs, acting like it is nothing. “Oh, I just told her the truth.”
“The truth?” My voice hardens, the anger in my chest growing stronger with every word. “The truth about what?”
Her eyes flash with irritation, but I can see the deflection in them. “She is not right for you, Liam. She has always been trouble.”
My blood boils. “Mom, stop. Enough. I have told you this countless times, stop meddling in my life. You do not get to do that.”
She looks taken aback, but I do not wait for her to respond. I leave her standing there and find Hazel outside, leaning against the wall.
“Hey,” I say quietly, walking toward her. “You okay?”
She looks up, her face softening just a little. “Just peachy.”
“Hazel,” I say softly. “What happened there?”
She does not look at me. “It’s nothing,” she says, “wouldn’t be the first time.”
“What… what do you mean by that?”
She takes a breath, and for a moment, we stand there in silence. “Never mind. Got to go.”
Without another word, she turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, her words echoing in my mind.
Chapter twenty-one
Hazel
Islam the door shut behind me, the sound echoing through the quiet guest house. My bag drops onto the couch with a dull thud, and I head straight for the kitchen. My throat is dry, my chest tight, and my hands tremble ever so slightly. I need water! Juice! Something! Anything cold to cool the fire of anger burning inside me.
I pour some ice-cold water and gulp the entire content, yet it does nothing to ease the anger simmering inside me. Pouring myself another glass, I take a sip, then another, trying to swallow my frustration. I set the glass down on the counter and grip its edges, breathing deeply.
Calm down, Hazel. She is just not worth it.
I lean against the counter and close my eyes as her words replay in my head.
A few hours earlier
Layla and I are at our table in the cozy corner of the restaurant, the lights casting a bright glow over the place.
I was halfway through a plate of Shrimp Étouffée when Layla groaned dramatically. "This is good stuff," she said, licking the last bit of sauce off her fork with a satisfied grin.
“Definitely,” I reply with a grin of delight. “This is one of the best I’ve had in a long time.”
“Seriously, how is it that I’ve lived my whole life and never tried this shrimp dish?” She says, leaning back in her chair, eyeing my half-filled plate with hungry eyes.
I laugh softly, pushing my plate toward her. “Because you have a one-track mind when it comes to food, and it’s usually set on burgers.”
She snickers, taking a few bites off my plate. “I wonder if I can get another serving,” she muses, her eyes glinting with determination.
I laugh. “You have already eaten enough for two people. Where are you even putting all this?”
