4

~NORA

Two long frustrating days have passed since being cooped up in the suite, and honestly, I'd lost track of time.

Thankfully, I'd had the luxury of some peace and quiet. Liam—or Mr. Arrogant, as I still preferred to call him—hadn't been back to the suite for over a day. No snarky comments, no smug smirks, no relentless teasing. It was blissful, though I couldn't quite figure out where he'd gone. Not that I cared.

I stretched out on the couch, my laptop balanced on my knees. The storm outside still howled, battering the windows with relentless fury. The power had flickered a few times but held steady, giving me no excuse to avoid drowning myself in meaningless distractions. But no matter how many articles I scrolled through or how many movies I half-watched, my thoughts always drifted back to the date.

December 23.

The date sat heavy in my chest, like a weight I couldn't shake. Every year, this day came like an unwelcome guest, dredging up memories I'd rather keep buried.

I rubbed my temples, trying to push the feelings down. Don't think about it, I told myself. But the harder I tried, the louder the memories became.

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. Shoving my laptop aside, I grabbed my coat and decided to leave the suite. I didn't have a destination in mind—just somewhere away from this suffocating room.

—

The resort bar was faintly lit and mostly empty, save for a few other storm-stranded guests nursing their own drinks. I slid onto a stool and ordered something strong, something that promised to dull the ache in my chest.

The first sip burned going down, but the warmth that followed was welcome. I sipped slowly at first, but as the minutes passed, I found myself ordering another drink. And then another.

It didn't take long before the sharp edges of my thoughts began to blur. The heaviness in my chest eased, and the burden of the day started to lift.

When I finally stumbled out of the bar, the world spun slightly, but I didn't care. I was warm and numb, and for the first time all day, I wasn't thinking about the past.

I fumbled with the key card as I reached the suite. It took three tries before the lock finally beeped, and I pushed the door open, tripping over my own feet.

"Careful there," a familiar voice drawled.

I glanced up, startled, to see Liam standing in the doorway of the bathroom. A towel hung low on his hips, accentuating the sharp lines of his v-cut. His dark brown hair was damp, and tiny droplets of water clung to his bare chest, catching the light.

"Oh," I said, blinking. "You're back."

He arched an eyebrow. "Clearly. And you've been… drinking?"

I waved a hand dismissively, stumbling further into the room. "None of your business, Mr. Arrogant."

He paused, his gaze locking onto mine with an infuriating mix of amusement and curiosity. "Rough night?"

I snorted, kicking off my boots and shoving my coat aside, nearly losing my balance in the process. "Rough day. Rough week. Rough life,"

He stepped closer, his smirk softening. "Want to talk about it?"

"Why would I talk to you?" I said, my voice sharper than I intended. But instead of snapping back, he simply watched me, his blue eyes steady and unreadable.

"Suit yourself," he said finally, stepping back toward the bathroom.

But something in me gave way. Maybe it was the alcohol, the storm raging outside, or the heavy significance of the day, but the words spilled out before I could hold them back.

"It's the anniversary," I said quietly.

He paused, turning back to me. "Anniversary of what?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "My parents. They… died. On this day. Years ago."

For once, he didn't have a clever remark. His gaze softened, and he nodded slowly, as if he understood more than I'd expected.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low.

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It's fine. I just… needed to forget for a bit."

"Did it work?"

"Not really."

A heavy silence hung between us. I sank onto the couch, my head swimming from the drinks and my confession. Liam moved closer, hesitating for a moment before sitting on the armrest near me.

"You shouldn't drink alone," he said finally. "It's dangerous."

I huffed a laugh, though it held no humor. "What are you, my babysitter now?"

"No," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Just… someone who gets it."

I looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, the sharp edges of his arrogance seemed to soften, revealing something quieter, something almost vulnerable.

The tension between us shifted, something unspoken crackling in the air. His gaze lingered on mine, and for the first time since we met, I noticed how close he was.

Too close.

"Liam..." I started, but the sound of his name felt foreign on my lips.

"Yes?"

I swallowed hard, my heart thudding in my chest. His eyes searched mine, and the world seemed to slow, the storm outside a muffled roar.

"Why do you have to look like that?" I blurted.

He blinked, startled. "Like what?"

"Like... that," I repeated, gesturing vaguely at him. "All wet and shirtless and smug. It's annoying."

His lips twitched into a grin, but his voice was low when he replied. "You think I'm annoying?"

"Yes," I said, though it came out more breathless than I intended.

He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "And yet, you're still staring."

I opened my mouth to retort, but no words came. Instead, I felt the heat of him, the pull of whatever invisible thread had been building between us since the moment we met.

Before I could second-guess myself, I closed the gap, pressing my lips to his.

For a split second, he froze, as if caught off guard. Then his warm, commanding hands were on me as he pulled me closer.

The kiss deepened, and the room tilted again, though this time it wasn't the alcohol. His lips were soft, his touch sending sparks across my skin.

I barely registered him lifting me onto his lap. His lips trailed soft kisses along my neck, each one sending a shock through my body. A moan slipped from my lips as he sucked gently at my skin, marking me. My fingers instinctively tangled in his damp hair, pulling him closer.

"Liam," I whispered, my breath shaky as I felt a throb between my thighs.

He responded with a soft growl, his hands tightening around me as he continued, each kiss sending shivers down my spine.

He paused for a moment, his lips lingering just above mine. Then, his hands moved to the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one swift motion, leaving me only in my black bra. He kissed me again, harder this time, as if he couldn't get enough. His fingers expertly found the clasp of my bra, undoing it with a skill that made my breath catch.