Page 58 of Landing Liam

I slide down the tiled wall, the cool surface pressing against my back as I sink to the floor. The steam swirls around me, but it doesn’t chase away the chill settling deep in my bones. I rest my forehead on my knees, letting the water mix with the tears I hadn’t realized were falling.

What just happened? And why does it feel like I’m losing something I never even had?

I don’t know how long I sit curled in the shower, the cool tile against my back, but the water has long since turned lukewarm, trailing in slow rivulets over my skin. Eventually, I force myself to move, my muscles stiff and my heart even heavier. I go through the motions—lathering shampoo into my hair, rinsing it out, scrubbing my body like I can somehow wash away the weight in my chest.

When I finally shut off the water, the silence in the room is deafening. I reach for a towel, wrapping it around myself tightly, like it might hold me together. I already know Liam is gone. The air feels colder, emptier, without his presence.

I dry off mechanically, running my fingers through my damp hair, though every action feels like I’m watching it happen to someone else. Slowly, I gather my clothes from yesterday, pulling them on one piece at a time. Each button, each zipper, feels like it drags me further into the realization that this—whatever it was—might already be over.

When I glance out the window, the view takes my breath away. The sky is a stunning cobalt blue, the sun rising over the snow-draped mountain, its light glinting like shards of glass. It’s beautiful, and yet, it only sharpens the ache inside me. Tears well up, slipping free before I can catch them. I swipe at my cheeks with the back of my hand, telling myself to hold it together.

That’s when I see my phone on the bedside table. As I pick it up, the screen lights up, and the blood drains from my face.

A text thread blinks back at me, Odie’s name glaring like a neon sign.

Have you broken the story yet?

Why aren’t you responding?

Are you screwing the truth out of him?

Maggie? You better not be sleeping with him.

He’s an assignment.

Confirm the story and come home.

My heart feels like it’s been yanked out of my chest. The phone trembles in my hand as I read the messages over and over, the words burning into me. I sit on the edge of the bed, my knees weak, my vision blurring with tears I can’t seem to hold back. Liam must have seen this. That’s why he was so… cold, so detached.

I thought I could compartmentalize this. I thought I could keep my feelings separate from the story. But now, staring at these texts, I realize that somewhere along the way, the lines blurred. Irrevocably.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Liam

He’s an assignment.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, reverberating in my head as I walk through the lodge in a haze. Is that all I am to Maggie? A stepping stone for a story? I can’t stop thinking about the text messages I read, the ones I wasn’t even supposed to see. And it’s not just that she’s writing a story. It’s what kind of story it seems to be. Something about it feels ugly, calculated. Something I never wanted tied to my name.

“Liam!” a sharp voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn to see Izzy storming toward me, her white-blond ponytail swishing like a whip.

“It’s good to see you, Cousin,” I mutter, trying to muster my usual charm, but she’s not having it.

She grabs my arm with surprising force and drags me toward a small room off the main hallway. “What the hell have you been doing? Have you even looked at your phone?”

I frown, pulling my arm free. “Not yet. I’ve been... occupied.”

Izzy folds her arms and gives me a glare that could melt the snow outside. “I don’t care whose bed you rolled out of this morning. You need to check your phone. Right now.”

Her words hit harder than I expect, a flicker of unease crawling up my spine. I pull out my phone, unlocking the screen, and a series of notifications greet me like flashing warning signs. I click the first one, a text message from my publicist with a link attached.

As the article loads, my stomach twists into a tight knot. The headline is bold, capitalized, and impossible to miss.

Shredding the Rules: Liam Thompson Caught in Doping Controversy.

The room feels like it’s closing in around me. My heart hammers in my chest as I skim the article. It’s vague, loaded with insinuations and unnamed sources. But it’s enough. Enough to plant doubt. Enough to damage my reputation. Enough to ruin everything I’ve worked for.

I look up at Izzy, my throat dry. “What the hell is this?”