Chapter Five #3
I clenched my jaw, biting back the jealousy that surged through me like wildfire. What the hell is he to her? Brotherly, my ass. He was always there—on campus, after our last game, now here. Always close, always in her orbit.
Maverick said something, and Skye laughed lightly, but when he motioned toward my booth, her whole body went still.
Her shoulders stiffened, her gaze following his gesture until it landed on me.
I knew the exact moment she spotted me. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and for a second, I thought she might turn around and walk out.
But she didn’t. Instead, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and started toward me, her movements measured and deliberate.
Her defiance lit something in me that was equal parts infuriated and captivated. She’d always had that effect on me.
Ares exchanged a look with Kylian then turned to me. “We’ll give you some space.”
“What?” I snapped, dragging my attention away from Skye to glare at them for deserting me.
Kylian smirked knowingly. “You’re wound tight, and we’re not sticking around to watch you implode. Talk to her, Liam.”
“I don’t need?—”
“Yeah, you do,” Ares interrupted, sliding out of the booth. “And you’re welcome for us clearing the way.”
Before I could argue, Kylian and Ares were gone, leaving me alone to stew in my mess.
“Liam.” Skye slid into the booth across from me, her tone neutral, like she was trying to pretend it wasn’t awkward as hell.
“Skye.” I leaned back, forcing myself to appear calm, casual, though my pulse pounded in my ears. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same.” Her gaze flicked to the glass of water in front of me. “I thought this place wasn’t your scene anymore.”
“It isn’t.” I shrugged, swirling the ice in my glass. “I needed a distraction.”
She raised a brow, a flicker of skepticism in her eyes. “Funny. I wouldn’t think the great Liam Cartwright needs distractions. According to your rant, football keeps you busy enough.”
I flinched, the jab hitting harder than it should have, but I forced a tight smile. “It does. But sometimes, it’s not enough.”
The weight of those words hung between us, thick and charged. Skye’s fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag, and for once, she didn’t have a quick comeback.
“I was thinking about freshman year,” I said suddenly, my voice quieter. “The night before our first big game. You remember?”
Her gaze snapped to mine, her expression instantly guarded. “Of course, I remember.”
“You stayed up with me,” I said, the memory clawing at my throat. “I was a wreck—nervous as hell—but you kept me grounded. Made me believe I could handle it.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You didn’t need me to believe in you, Liam. You always knew who you were.”
“That’s not true.” I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table as I lowered my voice. “I didn’t know shit back then. Hell, half the time, I still don’t. But you… you made me feel like I didn’t have to pretend. Like I could be myself.”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her composure cracked. Her eyes darted away, and her fingers twisted tighter around her purse strap. “That was a long time ago.”
“Not long enough for me to forget,” I said, my voice softer, more vulnerable than I wanted it to be. “You disappeared after our last disagreement, Skye. No explanation, no warning. I thought… I thought we had something real.”
Her head jerked up, and for the briefest second, guilt flickered across her face. But she quickly masked it, shaking her head. “You never indicated that. I specifically remember you saying we were just casual.”
I flinched. She wasn’t wrong there.
“And… it wasn’t that simple.”
“Then explain it to me,” I pressed, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “Because I’ve been trying to figure it out for three years, and I still don’t have a damn clue.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, and I could see the hesitation in her eyes. She was about to say something, but before she could, a shadow fell across the table.
Maverick.
He set a drink in front of Skye, his expression casual, but his eyes held an edge as he looked at me. “You okay?” he asked her, his voice light, but there was no mistaking the protective undertone.
“Fine,” she said quickly, taking the drink. “Thanks.”
My gaze stayed locked on her as she turned toward him, her posture stiff, her movements abrupt. She was hiding something—I could feel it.
Maverick lingered a second longer, his gaze meeting mine with a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Good seeing you, Cartwright.”
“Sure,” I said, my tone clipped as I leaned back in the booth.
He turned to walk away, Skye by his side, then he paused just long enough to lean in close, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Figure it out, Cartwright. Before it’s too late.”
His possessive words hit like a direct blow to the chest. She doesn’t want me. I sat there, frozen, watching them disappear into the crowd.