The vulnerability in his voice when he admitted he doesn't really know his half-brothers.
The man the public sees isn't the real Liam Novak. Not even close.
I know this now. I've seen behind the facade to the man underneath.
I pull up the social media monitoring dashboard, scanning through the coverage from Thursday's game in Toronto.
Then I notice the photos from after the game. The team out celebrating at some club called The Rake. Instagram shows the VIP section packed with players, drinks flowing, the usual victory celebration.
I scroll through more posts, more photos. Fan accounts that captured the players leaving the club. I scan the headlines.
And then I see it:Where was Nova?
The gossip blog has compiled all the photos, circled the players present, and noted the obvious absence. The comments section is full of speculation.
Maybe he's finally growing up?
Probably with some girl. That's more his style.
Nova missing a party? Hell must have frozen over.
I smile at my laptop screen like an idiot.
Liam chose to be with me instead of doing what everyone expected him to do. And even though no one knows why he was missing, even though the world still sees him as the player who can't commit to anything, I know the truth.
He's changing. Slowly, maybe. Imperfectly, definitely. But he's trying.
For himself. For his career.
For us.
The flight attendant's voice crackles over the speaker, announcing our descent into LaGuardia. I close my laptop and stare out the window at New York sprawling below, the familiar skyline coming into view.
Liam is probably at practice. I wonder if he's thinking about me the way I can't stop thinking about him.
My phone buzzes the second we land, and the pilot gives permission to use electronic devices.
Liam: Have you landed yet?
Warmth floods my chest. I like having someone checking in on me.
Me: Just landed. Waiting to taxi to the gate.
Liam: Hudson's waiting for you. Baggage claim, near carousel 3.
Me: Liam, you didn't have to.
Liam: I wanted to. Let him drive you home. I’ll feel better that way since you refused my upgrade.
I let out a laugh. I did refuse an upgrade. No way am I letting him spend more money on me. The Toronto suite was already too much.
Me: Okay. Thank you.
Liam: Text me when you're home safe.
The plane finally pulls up to the gate, and I gather my things, joining the shuffle of passengers deplaning.
I navigate through to baggage claim, scanning the crowd near carousel 3, until I spot Hudson.
