Chapter 16 Someone Like Him
Someone Like Him
Claire
The next morning, I lay in bed, blinking up at the ceiling.
Was it still possible I was full from last night’s dinner?
I stretched one arm toward the nightstand just as my phone buzzed.
Maeve.
My heart jumped. I sat up fast and answered. “Hello?”
"Claire! Hey, sorry if I woke you. I’ve been trying to reach Liam, but he’s not picking up."
"Uh—" I glanced toward the hallway. My cheeks went warm. His sister had called me. "Pretty sure he’s here. Hang on one sec."
The second I stood, my pulse kicked up. I was about to walk down Liam’s hallway. His hallway. I hadn’t stepped foot in that wing since moving in.
It felt… personal.
I walked towards his wing and turned left. Family photos lined the wall, some recent, some sun-warmed and older. One of Maeve with her arm slung around Liam’s neck at what looked like a graduation. Another of him in full gear, mid-save, fully focused. Then—
I paused.
Liam stood next to a girl with long, dark hair and warm eyes. She looked… familiar. But there was something in her posture, the tilt of her head, her smile, the slope of her cheekbones that made me do a double-take.
She looks like a younger version of me.
I kept moving before I could read too much into it.
His door was cracked open slightly. I lifted my hand to knock and caught my breath when I saw him.
His back was to me. Shirtless. Just a pair of low-slung sweats and a towel draped around his neck. Damp hair curling slightly at the ends. Skin flushed from the shower.
He was rifling through a drawer, totally unaware.
My brain emptied.
I could barely find my voice. "Maeve’s been looking for you," I managed. "I’m on the phone with her."
He turned sharply, the towel slipping from his neck as he pulled a shirt from a hanger. "Thanks," he said, already striding toward me.
I didn’t move.
He tugged the shirt on as he walked. Dark gray cotton that clung to his shoulders and chest, still a little damp. He reached for the phone in my hand just as he reached me, close enough that I caught the scent of clean soap and something warm underneath it.
"Hey," he said into my phone. "Yeah. I’m here. What’s up. Is everything OK? "
I stepped back to give him space. He stepped closer.
His shoulders dropped, just slightly. I couldn’t hear everything Maeve was saying.
I pointed to the speakerphone icon. He nodded. I tapped it.
“All this worry, and it's just an overactive thyroid,” was all I caught Maeve saying.
“Maeve, it's Claire. I put you on speakerphone. That’s the best news. That’s very treatable." I said it more for Liam’s comfort. Maeve probably already knew that.
“Can I call you later to hear more about the treatment plan?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Liam, I’m sorry I had you worried. Let’s talk later this week, okay?”
He just nodded.
“Maeve, you can’t see him,” I said softly, “but he’s nodding.”
I ended the call. The phone was still in his hand.
His jaw flexed. He let out a breath. And then he handed the phone back to me and did something I didn’t expect.
He pulled me in. Arms wrapped tight, head bowed until his cheek brushed mine.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just held on.
And I let him. My arms settled gently around his waist, hands resting lightly on his back.
He smelled like warmth and water. Like relief.
His voice came near my ear, low and steady. "Thank you."
I eased back, just enough to see his face." For what?"
His hands came to rest on my shoulders. Firm, but gentle.
His thumbs brushed the curve of my collarbone.
"For being there for my sister. For being there for me. I don’t think I could’ve handled this alone."
My breath caught.
I nodded, small and slow.
"You’re welcome."
He leaned in and kissed my forehead.
And then we stood there again. The moment had pressed pause on the world around us.
And all I could think was: This. This is what I want.
Then the quieter thought beneath it:
Why can’t I find someone like Liam?