Chapter 3
I’m ready when Liam pulls up at exactly seven, the rumble of his black truck announcing him before I even step outside. I smooth down the front of my blouse and head out, catching sight of him as he hops down from the driver’s seat like a man born in boots.
He’s changed.
Dark jeans. Black button-up sleeves rolled to his forearms, the top two buttons undone just enough to be distracting. His hair’s still slightly damp, like he just showered, and his cologne hits me a second later. Spiced, clean, and unfair. Liquid panty remover. Straight up.
He flashes me that familiar grin, pure trouble wrapped in charm.
“Evening, honey.” He opens the passenger door with a dramatic little flourish, like he’s escorting me into a carriage instead of his dusty truck.
I climb in, adjusting my skirt carefully so it doesn’t ride up too far.
I’m suddenly hyper-aware of everything. How the pink blouse hugs my chest just a little tighter than I meant, how the black skirt shows off my curves in a way that feels bold, and how my black boots match his a little too perfectly.
Great. Now we look like a fake couple coordinated on purpose.
I glance sideways, half-expecting a comment.
Nothing.
Except for the way his gaze lingers on my legs a second too long before he shuts the door.
He rounds the front of the truck and climbs in, the cab filling again with that maddening scent and his solid, easy presence.
“You look nice,” he says, like it’s just an observation.
But the way his voice dips makes me wonder if he means more.
I clear my throat and look out the window. “You clean up alright yourself.”
He chuckles and shifts into drive. “Look at us, already finishing each other’s compliments.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling before I can stop myself. This is a bad idea. But it’s already happening, so why fight it?
“So,” I ask as the highway opens up in front of us, lights from town fading behind us, “what’s on the agenda tonight?”
“Agenda?” Liam glances over at me, that smirk already forming. “Honey, this isn’t work. This is us getting to know each other.”
My brows knit together. “But we do know each other.”
“Do we?”
I nod, confident. “Yeah.”
He leans back in his seat, one hand on the wheel, the other draped casually across the console. “Alright then. What’s my favorite color?”
“Black.”
“Easy one,” he mutters, then glances at me again. “What was my old dog’s name?”
“Yeller. Because you named him after the movie, not realizing how it ended.”
He winces. “Still haven’t forgiven my dad for letting me watch that after I named the dog.”
“I wouldn’t have either.”
I mean it, too. His father is an asshole and apparently always has been.
Liam’s eyes narrow playfully. “Alright. Who’d I take to prom?”
“You didn’t. You went alone because you said, quote, ‘no girl at that school could keep up with me.’”
Liam barks a laugh. “Damn. Okay, hotshot. Your turn. Ask me some.”
I tilt my head, smile curling. “What’s my favorite color?”
He squints like he’s trying to cheat off the sky. “Red?”
I shake my head slowly. “Pink.”
He makes a face. “Pink? Really?”
“Yeah. I love pink.”
“But you wear red lipstick all the time.”
I glance at him, surprised he’s noticed that. “So?”
“So…” He trails off, but there’s something thoughtful in his tone now. “Red’s bolder. Louder. Pink’s… softer.”
His voice dips just a little on softer, and my stomach does a slow, dangerous roll. I look out the window again, hoping he can’t see the heat rising in my cheeks.
“Maybe I wear red because it’s easier to pretend I’m braver than I am.”
Liam doesn’t say anything right away.
But when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter. “You’re braver than you think, Olive.”
I shake my head, turning toward him with a smirk. “Alright, smart guy. What was my first pet’s name?”
He scoffs. “Trick question. You never had a pet growing up because Opal was allergic.”
I blink. “Correct.”
I can’t believe he remembered that.
I think for a second, then ask, “Okay. Who was my prom date?”
Without hesitation, he says, “Your cousin.”
My mouth drops open. “What?! That is absolutely not true!”
He laughs, the sound echoing through the cab, rich and unfiltered. It makes something stupid and soft twist in my chest.
“I know,” he grins. “I just wanted to mess with you. Your prom date was that guy… you know, the same one you lost your virginity to.”
I hum under my breath, a little flustered. “Wow. Maybe we’ve shared too much over the years.”
He just shrugs like it’s nothing. “That’s what best friends do, Olive.”
Best friends.
He says it so casually, like he didn’t just toss me into the friend zone, tie a bow on it, and smile while doing it.
And yet, he glances over at me with that same damn grin, eyes flicking down to my legs for just a fraction of a second too long before he returns his gaze to the road.
I still feel the sting, though. Because no matter how many stories we’ve shared, or how well he knows me…
He doesn’t see me the way I wish he did.
I shift in my seat, angling my body slightly toward the door as I turn to stare out the window. The highway from Broken Heart Creek to Sheridan stretches out empty and unbothered, just two dark lanes cutting through endless fields and silence.
But the sky?
The sky is stunning.
The sun has just dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a soft smear of lavender and gold, like someone painted the edge of the world with delicate fingers. And above it is stars. Tiny, flickering diamonds scattered across the velvet dusk, just starting to blink to life.
It’s the kind of sky that makes you feel small and hopeful at the same time. Like maybe the universe is trying to remind you there’s more out there than what hurts.
I let my forehead rest lightly against the cool glass, blinking up at the heavens like they might have an answer for the question I haven’t dared say out loud.
Why him?
Why now?
And why the hell can’t I stop wanting something I can’t have?
Liam, blissfully oblivious to the slow-motion chaos unraveling inside my head, flips on the radio and whistles along with the music, one hand tapping the steering wheel in rhythm.
“Sam’s team thinks this one’s gonna hit number one again by the end of the week,” he says, sounding proud in that casual sibling way even though he and Sam are cousins.
Sam Stone. As in the Sam Stone—country music royalty and one of the biggest stars in the genre right now. Also known as Liam’s older cousin. His voice pours through the truck’s speakers, rich and raw, wrapping around lyrics that are equal parts poetry and heartbreak.
The song playing is Wyoming Flood and has been climbing the charts like wildfire.
But the sweetest part? It’s about Charlie.
His fiancée. I’ve only met her a handful of times, but she’s the kind of person who feels like a full breath of fresh air.
Kind eyes. Gentle laugh. The kind of woman who can soften a storm without trying.
And Sam? He worships the ground she walks on.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat rising faster than I can chase it down.
There’s something about hearing a man sing about the woman he loves while sitting next to someone who doesn’t even know he’s got your heart in a death grip.
I shift in my seat again, eyes back on the stars, pretending the song doesn’t hit me like a sucker punch to the chest. But it does. God, it does.
“Did I tell you they finally picked a date?” Liam says, glancing over at me, his voice light. “Guess we should figure out what we’re gonna wear.”
I huff a soft laugh, still staring out the window. The stars blur a little, more from the way my thoughts tangle than from the glass.
“What?” he asks, half amused, half suspicious.
“Liam,” I say, not bothering to hide the incredulity in my voice, “I’m not going to your cousin’s wedding as your pretend date.”
“Well, no,” he replies slowly. “But I figured we’d go together. You know. As friends. Unless you’re planning on taking someone else?”
The casual tone falters right at the end, just enough to make me turn and really look at him.
He’s watching the road, but there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes. Something I can’t quite name.
“You’re talking like they’re even going to invite me,” I say, softer now.
His eyebrows pull up in surprise. “Why wouldn’t they?”
I laugh again, but this one’s a little sad. “Because they’re your family, Liam. Not mine. I can’t exactly call them friends, either. I only know them because of you. I’m sure I’m not going to be on their guest list.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just keeps his eyes on the road, jaw tightening like he’s working something out.
Then he glances at me again—long enough to make my heart stutter—and I swear he’s seeing me differently.
Like it’s only just now hitting him I’m not part of the world he so easily inhabits.
That maybe, no matter how close I stand next to him, I don’t really belong.
And the worst part? I already knew that.
“I’ll talk to Sam,” Liam says.
I exhale slowly, eyes flicking back to the stars.
“Liam, it’s fine. Promise.” I force a small smile. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with you. Some blonde with a killer smile and big… personality. You probably won’t even remember that I wasn’t there.”
He doesn’t answer. And that silence? It cuts deeper than words. I glance over, and he’s staring straight ahead, lips pressed together, brow drawn tight. A twinge of something twists inside me. That familiar longing that clings to the edges of every interaction with him.
I hate it when he’s quiet like this.
So I reach for the only thing I’ve got. A distraction. Something light.
“Hey,” I say, shifting gears. “Did I tell you the t-shirt proof came in?”
That gets his attention. I pull out my phone, open the email, and tilt the screen toward him.
He glances down and instantly barks out a laugh, loud and unfiltered. “We’ve got more mounts than a rodeo cowboy. Fucking brilliant.”
I laugh too, the tension breaking like a tight wire finally snapping. The weight in the cab lifts, just a little, and I breathe easier.
“I thought you’d like that one,” I say, watching the way his smile lingers.
And for a moment, it feels almost normal again. Just us. Even if my heart’s still sitting quietly in the space between us, wondering if he’ll ever actually see it.
It’s easier to hold on to hope than to admit the truth. That maybe Liam knows how I feel. And just ignores it.