The 90-Day Experiment (The Expiry Date Diaries #1)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Emerson

I sank into the hot tub like it was my last hope for salvation, which honestly? It kind of was. The jets hit that spot between my shoulder blades that had been screaming for dear life. God, I needed this.

The Black Orchid Hotel’s pool area, with its nostalgic retro charm, was my escape. The tiles sparkled under the ambient lights, casting a dreamy glow around the place, making it look like a scene straight out of an old Hollywood flick.

I leaned back, closing my eyes, but apparently, my brain didn't get the "relax, you idiot" memo, because it kept circling back to Liam.

His voice from that phone call played on a loop in my head. He’d sounded tense as hell, his body coiled tighter than a spring. It wasn’t just some meaningless chat; something serious was going down.

What the fuck was he hiding from me? And why the hell did I even care so much?

I tried to clear my mind, taking a deep breath. This was supposed to be simple—ninety days of no-strings-attached fun. But here I was, over two months in, feeling like I was spiraling out of control, the guilt wreaking havoc on my guts. And the worst part? This spectacular mess was all me, stone-cold sober and supposedly old enough to know better.

The sound of footsteps and familiar laughter jolted me from my thoughts. I straightened, plastering on a cheerful face as my mom and Aunt Vic bustled into the pool area.

As always, they were a riot of colors and loud chatter.

“Emerson!” Mom’s voice echoed, brimming with her typical enthusiasm. “How are you?”

I watched them approach, both decked out in vibrant swimsuits, armed with towels that matched so perfectly I wondered if they’d come as sets with the suits.

The twins were a force, and today was no different. Their unstoppable energy like a hurricane.

“Good. Just needed a break,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Some time to think.”

“Think?” Vic laughed, tossing her towel onto a chair. “Here? Sweetie, the only thing you should be thinking about is how to unwind.”

I forced a laugh even though my mind was still a chaotic mess over Liam and whatever the hell he was keeping from me.

“Trying my best, Aunt Vic.”

“Well, try harder,” Mom said with a wink as she slid into the water beside me.

She leaned back out and pulled a bottle of champagne from her bag, the familiar label promising a buzz that might just help me forget—at least for a while.

With a deft twist, Mom popped the cork, the sound echoing around the hot tub like a tiny celebration, and poured three glasses.

The champagne fizzed on my tongue, each bubble a tiny burst of escape. Between the alcohol's warm glow spreading through my veins and the hot tub's embrace, I should have been floating in bliss.

But Liam kept creeping in.

His voice in my ear, rough and demanding, whispering things that should have shocked me but instead lit me on fire. The way he'd pushed me to my limits, showing me parts of myself I never knew existed.

And I'd given in completely, trusting him with everything—my body, my pleasure, my vulnerability.

The champagne glass trembled slightly in my hand. When had I become this person? This woman who craved a man's touch, who thought about him constantly, who noticed his absence like a physical ache?

That phone call, though... the tension in his voice had been unmistakable. What secrets was he keeping? The thought nagged at me, an itch I couldn't scratch.

I felt Mom and Vic's gazes on me like laser beams. They were too quiet, too observant. I knew that look—the one they shared when they sensed emotional upheaval.

I couldn't stop staring at the bubbles in my glass, using them as an excuse not to meet the knowing looks I could feel burning into me. How had I let myself get in so deep? When had this "simple" arrangement become anything but?

“So,” Mom began, her tone deceptively casual, “how are things going with that handsome assistant of yours? Liam, right?”

She leaned back, twirling a strand of her sun-streaked hair around her finger, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

I nodded, trying to keep my face blank. “Things are... fine,” I lied.

But who was I kidding? They were bloodhounds on a scent.

Aunt Vic smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So tell us about him.”

I sank a little lower into the water, wishing I could disappear under the bubbles. “What about him?” I mumbled, trying to sound casual.

“Well, for starters, how does he treat you?” Mom asked, her eyes narrowing in that way that meant she wasn’t letting this go. “Is he attentive? Romantic? Does he make you laugh?”

I opened my mouth to give another vague answer, but the words got stuck. How could I explain the way Liam made my heart race? Or how his terrible jokes always made me laugh, even when I was trying to be professional? How could I describe how safe I felt in his arms?—

My hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. Mom and Vic exchanged a knowing look, their eyes sparkling with a hint of “we-told-you-so” smugness.

“Oh, Em,” Vic said, leaning in like she was about to share the latest juicy gossip. “That look on your face says it all. You’re falling for him, aren’t you?” She smirked, that annoyingly perceptive smirk that made me want to both hug and throttle her.

“I... it’s not...” I stammered, feeling my cheeks heat. “It’s just an experiment… the challenge. Nothing more.”

Mom reached out and patted my hand gently, making me feel like I was five years old. “Emerson, sweetheart, love isn’t something you can put in a petri dish and study. It’s messy, complicated, and wonderful.”

“And sometimes,” Aunt Vic added, “it sneaks up on you when you least expect it—you know, like a spider in the shower.”

Her analogy made me shudder, but I got the point.

Their words resonated with the gnawing doubts that had been fucking with my head for weeks. I felt stripped bare, like all my defenses had been torn away, leaving me raw, vulnerable, and exposed.

The urge to run, to hide, was almost overpowering, but their concerned gazes pinned me in place.

“You don’t understand,” I whispered, each word a fragile confession I hated to admit. “I can’t... I can’t let myself get too attached. It’s not part of the plan.”

My voice wavered, sounding weak and pathetic, like a scared little girl afraid of the dark. And I hated it.

Mom’s eyes softened, filled with that infuriating maternal wisdom that always saw right through my bullshit.

“Oh, honey. Plans change. Life happens. You can’t control everything.” She reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead, her touch a gentle reminder of her unconditional, maddening love.

“But I have to,” my voice, usually so calm and composed, erupted with a force that bounced off the walls. The outburst startled even me, but I couldn’t stop. “If I don’t, if I let myself feel too much... I could lose everything I’ve worked for.”

The words spilled out like a dam had burst inside me. My chest heaved with the effort of holding back tears I refused to shed.

Aunt Vic raised an eyebrow, her expression full of skepticism. “Is that really such a bad thing? Sometimes, what we gain far outweighs what we lose.”

Her gaze was piercing, daring me to argue with her.

I shook my head, feeling panic rise up like a tidal wave.

“You don’t get it. My work—it’s all I have. I can’t risk it for... for feelings that probably aren’t even real.” My voice cracked, and I hated how fucking vulnerable I sounded.

“Emerson,” Mom said softly. “Honey, listen to yourself. You’re talking about your emotions like they’re some kind of disease. That’s not healthy.”

She placed her hand over mine, her warmth grounding me in the moment.

“She’s right,” Vic chimed in with a no-nonsense tone, cutting through my bullshit. “Love isn’t something to be afraid of. It’s what makes life worth living.”

Their words, meant to comfort, only made the storm inside me worse. I was a scientist; I needed control, predictable outcomes.

Emotional chaos felt like walking through a minefield.

But Liam. Goddamn Liam. The way he made me feel... the way he touched me... it was like nothing else. His hands on my body, his mouth on mine, the way he made me scream his name.

Fuck.

And it wasn’t just the sex—though the sex was fucking mind-blowing.

It was the way he looked at me, like I was the only woman in the world. The way he made me feel seen, cherished, possessed. I wanted to be his, all his, no matter the consequences.

And that scared the absolute shit out of me.

Because what if I lost myself in him? What if I let my guard down but then he left, taking all my carefully built defenses with him? What if I let myself love him and it all went to hell?

“I... I think I need to end it,” I blurted out, surprising even myself. “The 90-Day Challenge, I mean. I can’t... I can’t do this anymore.”

Mom and Aunt Vic exchanged a worried glance, making me feel like a specimen under a microscope.

“Emerson,” Mom said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “are you sure that’s what you want? It seems like you and Liam have something special.”

Her eyes searched mine, looking for a truth I was too scared to admit.

I shook my head. “That’s exactly the problem. I’m losing myself in it, and I can’t afford to do that.” My voice was tinged with desperation.

Aunt Vic’s expression changed in that way that meant she was about to drop some serious wisdom, probably with a generous helping of sarcasm.

“Love isn’t about losing yourself, Emerson. It’s about finding a part of you that you never knew existed.”

Her words were so convincing that I almost believed her. Almost.

Tears started to well up, mixing with the steam from the hot tub and my growing panic.

“And what if it all goes wrong? What if I end up hurt, or alone, or...”

My voice faded, the fears I couldn’t say out loud hanging in the air.

“Or what if it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever experienced?” Vic cut in, her gaze slicing right through my defenses. “That’s the risk we all take when we open our hearts. But trust me, it’s worth it.”

I was at a crossroads. One path led to the safety of my controlled, scientific world. The other... well, that was the great unknown, filled with risks and the potential for heartbreak.

“I... I have to go,” I said suddenly, grabbing my towel and phone, nearly tripping over my own feet. “I need to think.” My voice wobbled.

As I rushed away from the pool area, leaving my bewildered mom and aunt in my wake, one overwhelming thought was all my brain would give me.

Love was a complication that could obliterate everything I’d painstakingly built.

I couldn’t just throw everything away, no matter how much my soul, or my traitorous body, craved him.

But then I pictured his face. This was Liam. My beautiful, perfect Liam.

Unease settled in my chest, wondering if this was my one shot—my only shot—at the kind of happiness I hadn’t dared to dream about.

Damn it. The conversation with Mom and Aunt Vic had left me exposed and vulnerable. A fucking trend these days. And as I got inside and paced the length of my apartment, my wet hair leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor, I knew I needed to clear my head.

The lab. That’s where I could find solace, where everything made sense.

With a quick glance at the clock—8:47 PM—I changed, grabbed my keys, and headed out, ignoring the little voice in my head that whispered how pathetic it was to seek comfort in research and data sheets.

And yeah, maybe that voice had a point, but fuck it. I needed my sanctuary.

The drive to the lab was a blur of streetlights and racing thoughts as I pulled into the parking lot.

I was surprised to see a faint glow coming from one of the lab windows. Odd. No one should be here this late.

A niggling sense of concern pushed aside my personal drama as I approached the main entrance, my heart rate picking up as I stepped inside, the familiar smell doing little to calm my nerves.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing in the empty space. No response.

I made my way through the main lab area, my footsteps unnaturally loud in the silence. Everything seemed to be in order—no signs of a break-in or anything amiss.

But then I noticed it: a sliver of light spilling out from under the door of one of our privacy rooms.

Cautiously, I approached, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Fuck, what if it was an intruder?

But curiosity won out, and I gently pushed the door open.

What I saw made me freeze in my tracks.

The privacy room had been transformed into a makeshift living space. A duffel bag lay open on the floor, clothes spilling out as if someone had been rummaging through it in a hurry. A small side table held a dog-eared paperback and an alarm clock.

But it was the scent that hit me hardest—that smell that reminded me of mornings after a storm.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, the realization crashing over me.

Liam was living in the lab.

I took a step back, my mind reeling. The mysterious phone calls, the long hours he spent at the lab, his increasingly creative excuses for why I couldn't stop by his apartment.

Betrayal shot through me, hot and bitter. I had opened up to him, let him see parts of me I’d kept hidden from everyone. Had actually considered throwing everything away to try to build something with him.

And all this time, he’d been lying… keeping this massive secret from me.