Chapter 4
HOLLY
The streets buzzed with a strange energy as Liam and I walked side by side, a blend of chaos and quiet.
On one side, the shops stood closed and dark, their windows lifeless against the night.
But on the other, bars came alive, pulsing with music and neon lights.
Every so often, laughter or a drunken shout would cut through the rhythmic thumping bass that echoed through the night.
I glanced at Liam, letting a smirk play on my lips.
Walking next to him was easy. There was no pressure to make conversation or awkwardness lingering in the quiet.
There was just a tingle in my center and a feeling of familiarity.
Something I couldn't quite pin but wanted to discover. “You’re not one of those creeps who’s going to murder me, are you?
Just so you know, I’m fully not murderable. ”
Liam’s brows shot up, and a laugh escaped him, warm and genuine. “Not-murderable? What does that even mean?”
“It means you wouldn’t want to kill me,” I explained, waving a hand dramatically.
Out of the blue, I was nervous—not scared—but my heart raced again, and I felt a little anxious at the thought of explaining why I was special.
I mean why I’d be missed. “Well, for starters, people would notice. I have three sisters who are constantly up my butt. They’d sound the alarm if I went MIA for more than twenty-four hours.
Plus, I’ve got a cat, two guinea pigs, and a succulent garden.
Deny them their care, and you’ll have bigger problems than me. ”
Liam’s head tilted as he shook it, his lips tugging into a reluctant smile. “Noted. Lucky for you, I’m not the murderous type.”
“Isn’t that exactly what a murderer would say?” I teased, stepping closer so my shoulder brushed against his. A zing of warmth shot through me. I eased away, unsure what to make of the feeling. Was it magic? Or something more…
“So, where are you taking me, Mr. Not-a-Murderer?”
Liam gestured ahead, his gaze steadily still on me. “Have you ever been to Abbott's?”
“Of course I have. It’s the most popular spot in the city, but there’s no way we’re getting in. Tonight is a special event night. Unless you have pre-ordered tickets, which I doubt considering the shithole we just left, we’ll be stuck in line all night with like zero chance of getting in.”
Liam tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. The action was so inconsequential, so mundane, but there was something in the way he looked at me. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like he had a secret.
“I did not pre-order tickets. I actually planned to stay as far away from that place as possible, but something tells me you could go for a drink that doesn’t taste like ass and maybe a little fun.”
“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, folding my arms. “But unless you’ve got some serious connections…”
“You don’t know half of what I’ve got,” he interrupted smoothly. “You don’t know me yet.”
I snorted. “Touché. Speaking of things I don’t know, what’s your last name?”
His confidence faltered, just for a second, but then it was back in place, like a mask protecting him from the outside world. “I think I’d rather not say.”
“Secrets. Secrets.” I teased, nudging him lightly. “Fine, I’ll start. Mine is Flynn. See? Easy. Now, it's your turn.”
“Smith,” he replied too quickly.
“Smith,” I whispered, rolling it over my tongue. I couldn’t explain it, but the name didn’t feel right. I felt crazy, but my intuition had never steered me wrong. His last name was definitely not Smith. I stopped mid-step, narrowing my eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah. Problem?” Liam said, his expression unreadable.
Yes. I pretended to think it over and then shrugged.
I was in no place to judge Liam. I’d kept the secret of what my family was all my life.
He probably had a reason not to tell me who he was, so I decided not to push the matter.
“It’s fine, I guess. Pretty basic, though.
I expected something cool like Pitt or Coleson. ”
Liam looked up at the sky and chuckled. “Good thing my name isn’t all I’ve got going for me.”
As we turned the corner, the line outside Abbott’s came into view, snaking down the block with impatient chatter and bursts of laughter. My stomach sank looking at it. I’d only been to Abbott’s twice and both experiences were amazing. Tonight would probably be just as fun.
If we could get in.
“You only have two hours left of your wish. Actually,” I pulled my phone from my back pocket and glanced at the screen. “A little less. Are you sure you want to waste it standing in line?”
Liam didn’t slow down. “I can spend my time however I want.”
“With some restrictions,” I shot back, mostly as a reminder to myself.
“Exactly.” Liam reached for my hand, his fingers brushing mine before locking them together. My breath hitched as a jolt of heat shot through me. I stared at our joined hands, unsure of what to make of the butterflies suddenly swarming in my chest.
A terrifying thought flickered through my mind so fast it left with a shudder.
Am I…
Could he be…
Is this why Dahlia messed with my love life tonight?
No. I shook my head, refusing to consider the idea and followed quietly.
We walked past the line, ignoring the irritated glances and muttered complaints.
A burly man stood at the door with arms crossed, his skeptical gaze shifting when he saw us.
I swallowed hard and prepared myself for the mortification of being turned away at the door.
There was no doubt in my mind that the people we passed were staring, waiting to laugh at us when we made the walk of shame to the back of the line.
“Ralph,” Liam greeted, his voice carrying an easy confidence as he nodded at the bouncer.
The bouncer’s broad face twisted from confusion to shock. “What are you doing here?” Then, as if catching himself, he blurted, “Not that you shouldn’t be here. I mean, you can be here, obviously. Just... it’s unexpected.”
Liam arched a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching to fight another one of those disarming smiles. “Relax, Ralph. It’s fine. I just wanted to show this pretty girl a good time. Is that alright with you?”
Ralph’s eyes darted to me, briefly taking me in before returning to Liam. “Does she know about the… you know?” he asked, his voice dropping conspiratorially.
Liam sighed a long-suffering sound. “Dude. Really?”
“Right. Sorry.” Ralph straightened, stepping aside quickly as if to make up for the slip. “Are we still on for Tuesday?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Liam replied, guiding me inside with a light hand on my back.
As we stepped into Abbott's, the familiar sound of DropKick Murthy’s filled the air, weaving through the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses.
I glanced around the room, taking in the warm glow of hanging lights and the polished wood that gave the place a rustic, cozy charm.
Green shamrocks and streamers were everywhere.
It looked as if Party City loaded a cannon with every St. Patrick’s Day themed item they sold and shot it into the room.
The decor was overwhelming but not tacky. Surprisingly, I liked it.
I leaned toward Liam, my curiosity overcoming my initial reluctance to show any interest in his life beyond tonight, and asked, “What’s happening on Tuesday?”
Liam flashed me one of those stomach-twisting smiles and, though I refused to admit it, my knees might have wobbled a bit. “Ralph’s kid has a hockey playoff.”
“On a Tuesday?” I asked, lifting a brow. Curiosity was the feeling I needed to focus on, not the warmth and adoration that Liam would give up his Tuesday night to watch a friend’s kid play hockey.
“Well, when you’re six, the arena fits the games in wherever they can,” he said with a chuckle, leading us toward the main bar across the room.
I wiggled through a maze of bodies, trying to keep up with Liam as he slipped effortlessly through the crowd.
Rather than pushing through people for a spot at the front, Liam slipped behind the bar with practiced ease.
He tapped the bartender on the shoulder.
She jumped, almost dropping the drink she was mixing, and spun around.
“Liam!” she scolded, her voice carrying over the hum of the bar. She poured and garnished the drink, then handed it to the patrons who ordered. “You’re not supposed to be here tonight.”
“So I’ve been told, Amber,” he replied, his expression boyish and unapologetic.
“It’s your night off,” Amber said, poking a finger at his chest. “You promised you wouldn’t be here. What gives?”
Liam glanced at me briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching, before answering, “Needed a good drink. Figured this was the best place to get one.”
Amber let out an exasperated groan and shook her head. “There are a million bars in this city, Liam.”
“But none of them have you,” he countered smoothly, his grin widening. “Now, if you won’t make me something fabulous, I’ll just have to do it myself.”
Amber rolled her eyes, grabbed a glass from the cooler, and placed it under the tap. “Your bar, your rules?” she muttered under her breath as she set to work on someone else’s order.
“You’re impossible,” Liam teased, leaning casually against the counter. “What about you? Why are you here? I thought tonight was your night off.”
“It was supposed to be,” Amber admitted, looking slightly sheepish. “But Stephanie’s birthday is coming up, and Chloe called out, and I figured I might as well cover the shift.”
“Who’s watching Stephanie?” Liam’s voice softened, his teasing tone replaced with genuine concern.
“She’s in the back,” Amber said quickly, her words tumbling over each other. “I hope you don’t mind. She’s just sleeping, and she’s not bothering anyone, and I check on her every thirty minutes. It’s more than I would do if she were at home.”
“Amber,” Liam interrupted gently, holding up a hand. “Relax. You know Stephanie’s always welcome here. She’s the reason I remodeled the lounge next to my office. But you should’ve told me. I could’ve had someone watch her for you.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” she said, her shoulders easing slightly. “And she’s fine. I set up a camera, so I can check on her if she moves. Besides, she was on her iPad until she fell asleep.”
Liam’s expression softened, and for a moment, I saw something unexpected: a side of him that wasn’t just charm and wit.
He genuinely cared about the people he worked with.
I felt my lips lifting into a smile but quickly clenched my teeth to fight it.
Two hours. I reminded myself. In two hours Liam would forget I was ever a part of this night. I can’t let myself get attached.
“If you want to crash in the lounge after your shift, go for it,” he said. “You’re family.”
Amber’s shoulders eased as she gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, boss. I better get back to work.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving her off before turning back to me.
“Boss?” I asked, folding my arms and arching a brow. There was a playful edge to my voice, but my curiosity was genuine. “You own this place?”
He shrugged, downplaying the answer. “I might know a guy or two.”
I narrowed my eyes, calling his bluff while trying to put the pieces together. And then it hit me. “Wait a minute. Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Smith, would it?”
Liam’s chuckle gave him away before he even nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“I think I know you,” I said, the name finally matching up with the face. Excitement filled me with giddiness because I figured out who he was. “We had a class together in my first year of college. Right?”
“Western Civilization.”
“I knew you looked familiar!” I declared triumphantly. Liam sat next to me every day until…
That excitement turned into lead as I remembered what happened between us. He found me on St. Patrick’s Day and wished to go out with me. I rejected the wish because I actually liked the guy and couldn’t stand the thought of him forgetting who I was.
He still ended up forgetting about me, only it was because he ignored me after that, not because my magic erased every conversation, text message, and coffee not-date. Life could be ironic. I tried so hard back then to keep those memories sacred, only for time to wipe them away.
“Hold on a second, doesn’t your family own eight places around town? Why are you here with me instead of, oh, I don’t know, finding a bride to save it all?”
Liam busied himself, grabbing a glass from the tray behind him and filling it with ice, his gaze deliberately avoiding mine.
“Believe me, I don’t want to lose Abbott's, but even if I do, I’d still be a partial owner, and depending on how much my brothers like me at the end of the day, I might even get to keep running it. ”
“Your brothers would let you stay?”
“Probably,” he said, his grin turning crooked as he poured clear liquid into a mixing glass. “They’d be stupid not to run me into the ground as free labor. It’s hard to say, but enough about me. Sweet or sultry?”
“Sweet,” I answered automatically, watching as he expertly mixed a drink. “But this conversation isn’t over.”
“Good to know.” Liam handed me the glass, his fingers brushing against mine for a brief moment that sent another flicker of heat through me. “Now,” he said, leaning closer, “have you ever played Connect Four?”
I blinked. “What? Of course, I have. I was ten once.”
“Perfect. There’s a giant one out back,” Liam said, his eyes sparkling with amusement and perhaps a little bit of challenge. “Care to play?”
“Wait,” I asked, giving him a skeptical look. “This is your idea of fun?”
“This is my idea of breaking the ice,” he said with a smirk. “Two hours, Holly. Don’t judge me yet. I’m not the same man I was in college.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth despite myself.
I liked the man I knew back then, and I had a feeling I’d like to know who he became if given the chance.
It hurt to know that this was all we’d get, but I didn’t have a choice.
My magic had always been a double-edged sword.
It gave me another chance with Liam just to rip that chance away.
I grabbed my drink and hopped off the stool. “Fine. Let’s go.”