Page 7 of Landing Liam

“Oh, you know, here and there,” she says, her tone casual as she digs into a spinach salad.

“Sounds… interesting,” I mumble, clearing my throat.

Zach suddenly stands, phone in hand. “Totally lost track of time. I have, uh, another client to get to.” He’s obviously lying, but at this point, I’m not sure I blame him.

“See you tomorrow,” I say, watching him escape out the door.

Lyla shifts into Zach’s spot, her eyes fixed on me. “How’ve you been? I remember you were dealing with some stuff a few months ago.”

I swallow hard, caught off guard. I forgot she was around when the symptoms started—the dizziness, the blurred vision. “Just stress,” I lie, the answer automatic now.

In truth, I almost proposed to Lyla. I thought about settling down, buying a ring. But then, I thought of my parents—the way they laugh, bicker, and still make out like teenagers. I don’t want to spend my life with someone I can’t have that with. And Lyla? I was never sure enough about her to take that leap.

“You don’t lead a very stressful life,” she says, cocking an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about?” I laugh, brushing it off. “I put my body through hell every day.”

Her lips press together, and she leans closer. “I know we didn’t end on the best terms, but I still care about you, Liam. If something’s going on, I hope you know you can talk to me.”

I scratch the back of my neck, my instincts telling me to guard my words. I could never prove it, but I always had a feeling Lyla leaked stories about us. After we met, suddenly my face was everywhere, and I didn’t have a moment of peace. She worked in advertising, after all. Maybe her connection to me was just another piece of business.

“I’m good,” I say, offering a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

She studies me for a moment, then bites her lip, leaning closer. “So… what are you doing right now?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Nothing,” I say truthfully.

She smirks, her dark eyes glinting. “I heard that post-breakup sex is… mind-blowing.”

I let out a slow breath. “I don’t know, Lyla. That might complicate things.”

She grins, shrugging off my hesitation. “Come on, it’s just one afternoon, Liam. No strings. I know how you feel about commitment.”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. She’s pulled this line on me before. The whole “Whatever Liam wants, Liam gets” routine.

“Come on.” She leans in, her eyes daring me. “What could it hurt?”

A lot, I know. But after everything these past few weeks, a distraction might not be the worst thing. I let out a breath, finally meeting her gaze.

“Yeah,” I say slowly, my resolve slipping. “What could it hurt?”

***

I zip up my jeans, glancing back at Lyla’s sleeping form tangled in the sheets, her soft breaths filling the quiet of the room. I know I should stay, leave some kind of polite goodbye, but it’s close to midnight. And if I don’t check in soon, Mom’s going to call half the county searching for me.

I slip out of the room and down the hall, careful not to let the door click too loud behind me. Out in the cold night air, I take a breath, feeling the weight of it all—a moment’s escape that only leaves me heavier. When I reach my car, my phone rings, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Mom?” I answer without even looking at the screen.

“Um… it’s Lyla,” her voice comes through, groggy but sharp enough to knock the wind out of me.

“Oh.” I swallow hard, shifting on my feet. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t think you’d leave without saying goodbye.”

“I thought about it,” I admit, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. “But you said it was just… you know, just sex.”

She lets out a slow yawn, and I hear the hint of a smile. “It was. And you have to admit, breakup sex lives up to the hype.”