CHAPTER 19
Owen
Iwaited two weeks—two irritatingly long weeks—before I made a move. I could have run straight to Liam immediately. Hell, every restless thought in my head practically demanded that I did. But wanting something and acting on it were two very different things.
I wasn’t ready. Not yet. My entire life had shifted beneath my feet in the span of a single evening. Chasing after Liam in the middle of that felt selfish and reckless. He deserved more than becoming collateral damage in my identity crisis.
So instead, I watched him as I had before.
Even as I reorganized my life after my abrupt retirement from the Society, my attention remained fixed on him.
I tracked his routines the way other people tracked the weather.
And in doing so, I noticed how he changed.
It wasn’t quickly and drastically, but rather happened subtly.
He wasn’t rushing out of the house first thing in the morning, and he wasn’t staying late at work either.
His nights at home weren’t filled with hours hunched over his laptop, presumably catering to Mr. Jennings’s every whim.
I was all too aware of the gossip in his circles about the changes in him—the times he said no, the ways he asserted himself, and more.
The change was good, even if it left everyone questioning what was happening to him.
He was simply becoming more himself, and I was ridiculously proud of his progress.
A part of me didn’t want to interject myself in that, even when every instinct in me wanted otherwise. He was doing so well and doing it all on his own. I recognized the importance of him accomplishing this for himself, and I didn’t want to distract him from his progress.
However, Liam made the unfortunate decision to go on a date, and all of my patience evaporated. There was a difference between giving him room to find himself and giving another man the opportunity to take my place. That I absolutely refused to allow.
I stayed on the other end of the busy room to remain out of his line of sight as he sat by the bar with Nathan Klein.
Yes, I’d done my research. If Liam was going to go out with anyone, I had to make sure the guy wasn’t a complete deadbeat.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter what I thought because the way Liam smiled at him and laughed with him bothered the hell out of me.
The smart thing would’ve been to let the date play out—to sit back and see what happened between them. Maybe it would’ve fizzled naturally. Maybe Liam would’ve gone home mildly entertained and wholly uninterested.
But the idea of taking that chance didn’t sit well with me. The what-if was a risk I didn’t want to take.
The Red Rose was a custom drink created for one of the Society’s masquerade events years ago.
Dark at the bottom and crimson on top, it was beautiful and dramatic enough to draw attention when it was set on a table.
It was also appropriate, considering its purpose as a quiet reminder for him.
It was a way for me to place myself directly at the forefront of Liam’s thoughts without walking into the middle of his date and ruining it. I had no desire to make a scene.
Though, admittedly, the sight of his reaction nearly destroyed my restraint anyway.
I lingered near the back of the bar long enough to watch the recognition hit him. His entire body had gone still, and his expression was caught somewhere between disbelief and hope as his gaze snapped upward toward the crowd. Searching.
Searching for me.
A dangerous kind of satisfaction heated my chest at that knowledge. I allowed myself the indulgence of watching him a little longer. A crowded bar filled with noise and strangers wasn’t how I wanted him to see me again.
I wanted intimacy.
I wanted his full attention.
I wanted that moment to belong entirely to us. Not to onlookers like Nathan Klein.
Before Liam could find me, I slipped quietly out the back exit and disappeared into the night, leaving him with the drink, the memory, and just enough longing to ruin the date he didn’t belong going on.