Page 86 of Stuck with my Guarded MVP
Her eyebrows went up, and her fingers tapped once against her folded arm. Then nothing. Just her eyes holding mine until I had to glance away.
Brooke’s eyebrows stayed high. She didn’t let go. “Claire, come on. The last time I was here, I watched that man hold you by the hips like you were his. He kissed your cheek. He told you he’d see you in the morning for coffee like it was the most normal thing in the world. You expect me to believe you’re just roommates?”
I gripped the edge of the counter, pulse stuttering. “It wasn’t—”
Brooke cut me off with a sharp shake of her head. “No. Don’t even try that. I was standing right there. He was looking at you, Claire. Only you.”
Brooke didn’t ease up. Her arms stayed crossed, eyes hard on me. “And don’t even try to pretend pizza night didn’t happen.”
My pulse skipped.
“Claire, he could’ve rattled off a takeout menu and called it a day. But instead? He carried half a grocery store upstairs and made dinner for you and my girls.”
“I walked in and saw Sophie asleep on his chest, Emma knocked out on your shoulder, and the two of you sitting there like—” She broke off with a short, disbelieving laugh. “—like a family. And you know what I mouthed to you that night.”
Heat shot into my cheeks. I hadn’t forgotten.
Her voice sharpened. “I said,he’s a keeper.And I meant it. You blushed like you knew it, too.”
Brooke’s eyes didn’t waver. “Claire, listen to me. You don’t have to script the whole thing. Just talk to him. Tell him you’re staying in the city for Nolan and the girls. Tell him you’re looking for an apartment. And then tell him how you feel about him.”
My grip tightened around the glass. “Brooke—”
“No.” She held up a hand. “Don’t interrupt. Maybe he asks you to stay. Maybe he thinks you getting your own place is smart. Fine. But none of that matters if you keep acting like this, packing in secret, saying nothing. You can’t run from it. Not this time.”
A damp line of sweat crept along my collar. “You’re exaggerating. You’re seeing what you want to see.”
Brooke shook her head once, sharp. “No, I’m seeing what’s right in front of me. You’re the only one refusing to look.”
I dropped my gaze, pretending to straighten the pile of papers I had left on the counter. Anything to avoid her stare.
Her hand came down lightly on my arm. “Claire.” Her voice softened, but the steel was still underneath. “Liam is a keeper. You know that. And if you walk away without saying a word? You’ll regret it. I promise you will.”
My throat felt too tight to answer.
Brooke let out a long breath, then grabbed her phone from the counter. She slung her tote over her shoulder, already heading for the door. “Do what you want. But to be clear, you’re leaving the man who’s already opened his door, his kitchen, his life toyou. And if you walk now, you’ll always wonder what you walked away from.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and I stood frozen, glass still in hand. Brooke's words replayed one by one.
My neck was damp, sweat prickling at the edge of my sweater. I tugged at the fabric, trying to get air under it. I braced one hand against the counter while the other went to my forehead. Eyes closed. One breath. Then another. Still not enough.
I needed air.
I slid open the balcony door and stepped outside. The cold caught my skin, a quick shock, and I pulled in a breath that felt like the first real one in hours.
And then I saw it.
Two chairs.
The second one angled just slightly toward the first, as if someone had been sitting here, waiting for company. My feet slowed, almost tripping over themselves. That hadn’t been there before.
“When did you get here?” I whispered. My throat tightened. “Did he…?”
My hand hovered over the backrest, brushing the smooth wood like it might answer me. Of course it wouldn’t. But I knew.
My knees bent before my brain caught up, and I sank into it. The cushion gave under me, still new, not yet worn to anyone’s shape.
Between the two chairs sat the small side table. And on it—two books. The covers caught the last scraps of daylight, titles easy to read.
