Liam helps me into the sweatpants he got me before we left Alf’s cottage from somewhere.
When he rises in front of me, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you,” I swallow. “I fucking love you, Liam.”
He tilts his head, still frowning, but a grin ghosts his lips. “Maybe we should get your head checked. Just to be safe.”
I swat at him. “It’s my heart talking.”
His features soften. “I love you too.”
His lips close around mine. The kiss is gentle, in such contrast with what we just did. But that’s us. And that’s great.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs into my mouth.
“And you’re mine.”
A loud knock on the door jerks us apart. “Are you okay in there?” someone asks.
“We’re coming,” I respond, attempting to put on my shoes, take my bag, and leave all at once.
“I think we both already came,” Liam says and takes the shoes from me.
He pushes me to a chair and guides my feet inside them. And I let him.
“I thought you said no poking,” I tease as we exit the clinic.
He stills. “Fuck.”
And we both laugh.
“Why is Pascal telling me that if I want my order from him, I have to go through you?” Corm says through his teeth, stopping in the doorway like he’s hit a wall. “What the hell?” He looks around.
I put my feet up on my new desk and smirk. “I redecorated.”
I finally got Xander’s old office. And I made it mine.
He approaches me with care, as if the soft beige carpet can bite him. “I can see that.” He stares at the black wall.
One black wall to contrast the rest of the femaleelegance, soft textures, and pastel colors. It’s understated. It’s beautiful. It’s mine.
Corm turns around and picks a photo from a shelf beside me. “I’ve never seen this.”
“It’s my grandfather.”
He is right; I have never brought anything personal to work before.
Before, I was fighting to become an equal. Now I know I am.
He frowns. “You look different.”
I look down. I’m wearing comfortable jeans, a white shirt, and a blazer. I didn’t even realize that’s what I put on this morning.
No more armor.
“You came here to…?” I smirk, remembering why he came in.
He shakes his head. “Pascal.” He glares at me, recovering.
