Page 92 of Most Valuable Player
“I’m glad you made it.” Liam ambles closer in his white suit, a smile painted on his handsome face. “I wasn’t sure you’d come—”
“Don’t.” I barely have the strength to utter the word. It’s frustrating. I know what I want now, and it’s not him. This is a good time to tell him. Isn’t it?
“Don’t what?” Liam cocks his head, dark curls fluttering against his forehead.
“Don’t…come closer.”
His eyes glint with astonishment, I guess because I’ve never had the gall to say that. Then he sighs and massages the bridge of his nose. “That boy has done a number on you,” he says, and he steps sideways, giving me a clear path to the door. “Leaving me for a kid who can’t even hold down a crab puff. Miserable idiot.”
I furrow my brows. “What?”
“Your boy toy just ran outside to puke.”
Oh no. Did he eat too quickly again? We’ve been dating a month and he’s nearly made himself sick at least twice because of how he inhales his food. I stride to the door, and Liam watches with an expression I don’t care to analyze, because he’s not my priority.
“The necklace,” he says suddenly.
I stumble to a stop. “What?”
“I want it back.”
It’s a simple ask, but it startles me. Even when I threw the ring in his face, Liam insisted I should keep it for whenever I changed my mind. This is the first time he’s asking me to return a gift. Does this mean…he’s prepared to let me go?
I fumble through my breast pocket and pull the aquamarine necklace free. I was fully intending on returning it, so his request gets this part out of the way. I allow it to spill into his open palm, and without another word, I’m through the bathroom door, through the banquet room, and into the hall with the paintings. I decide to try the back exit first, pushing through the glass door into the night. I’ve entered the dimly lit employee parking lot, which is devoid of people and sprinkled with dumpsters and dark, empty cars.
“Cameron?” I call, straining my ears for retching or groaning. It’s deathly quiet—all I can hear is the whish of wintry wind through stripped branches.
He must’ve exited through the front after all. Though, why leave the building rather than run to the bathroom? Probably because he knew I was in there, collecting myself, and he didn’t want me to fly into a sobbing mess by bursting inside and hurling his guts. I spin around to reenter the building, hands extending toward the door.
There’s someone leaning against it. Calm, frigid eyes tear through the dim parking lot like pinpricks of light. I stare vacantly, trying to understand before it hits me.
Cameron isn’t outside at all, is he? He’s probably not even sick.
My fingers fumble along my pockets, seeking my phone. It’s on the table.
“Finally, peace and quiet,” Liam says, donning that familiar smile that softens his face. “I can’t believe you left like that. You didn’t greet me, hug me, congratulate me for making it through my hellish college career, wish me luck with my father’s company…It’s like I wasn’t even there.”
I stare at him.
“You knew the stress I went through during college. I thought you would’ve been happy to see me make it to this point. You said you’d always be there to support me. But, you also said you’d marry me. I guess promises don’t mean much to you.” He clicks his tongue with disappointment. “Then you’re shameless enough to come to my celebration with a dipshit jock who somehow won your heart. Tell me, did you show your face here just to mock me? Is a few months all it takes for you to forget you loved someone?”
His half step forward awakens me. I mirror it, slowly, hoping he won’t notice. I don’t know what to do. I don’t…
“Can we drop this?” Liam asks. The hum of the streetlamp on the curb is an incessant bug in my ears. “You brought him to make me jealous. To make me realize how much I fucked up.”
“That’s not true,” I breathe. My eyes flick around the parking lot, seeking routes, but there’s only the nearby street and banquet hall door. I can’t outrun him. “Cameron’s here to support me…It’s nothing to do with jealousy…”
I try desperately to steady my voice. This is it. I’m confronting Liam like I said I would. But I didn’t anticipate that it would be here now. Under the elongated shadows of streetlights without another soul nearby to see.
“Come here,” Liam says flatly.
I stay rooted to the asphalt, ten feet away.
“Come.Here,” he repeats.
The first order glanced off my skin, but the second one pierces, poking into my chest like a fishing hook. He’s at the other end, trying to draw me forward with his frustrated stare. Somehow, I manage to keep my feet planted.
“Is your brain-dead jock rubbing off on you?” he whispers, inching toward me. Again, I mirror him, though I’m fully aware this movement is putting me farther from the door. “Why are you looking at me like you think I’m going to attack you? Quit being dramatic. I told you I’ve changed. But you won’t give me the chance to show you how.”
