Chapter 179
And just like that, I remember exactly why I hate being away from her. Why the sound of her voice in my ear beats the roar of a stadium crowd. Why every second without her feels too long.
–
Her eyes bounce between me, Cam, the oven, then me again — like she’s trying to confirm that this isn’t some post–lack–of–sleep hallucination. “You’re… how are you back already?” she breathes, setting the bowl down with both hands, careful like she’s still grounding herself.
I step toward her, slower than I want to.
“Surprise,” I murmur, voice rougher than I meant it to be. Like I’ve been carrying the weight of missing her for miles and only just got to let it go.
LIAM
“I thought you were flying back tomorrow.”
“Got in early,” I say, my voice quieter now that we’re close. “Didn’t feel like waiting another day to see you.”
Her eyes flick up to mine. There’s colour blooming across her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away. Not yet.
Then – of course
–
Cam decides to speak. “Wow. I’m also here, by the
way. In case anyone cares.”
I sigh, not even turning. “We don’t.”
“You could at least fake it. A little enthusiasm wouldn’t kill either of
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you.”
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Emilia huffs out a short laugh, clearly trying to rein herself back in. “Hi, Cam,” she says, glancing past me. “Sorry, I was just… surprised.”
“It’s not a bad surprise, is it?” I ask.
She presses her bottom lip between her teeth, like she’s trying to hold something back. “No. It’s not.”
That’s all I need.
I close the gap between us before I can think twice. Her apron’s dusted with flour, hair twisted up in that no–nonsense way she hates. There’s batter on her jaw and sweat at her temple, and I don’t care about any of it. I’ve missed her.
Her hands hover in the space between us for a second, then land on my chest.
“I’m literally covered in flour,” she mutters.
“Still hot.”
She groans. But she doesn’t pull away when I wrap my arms around her. Doesn’t move when I press my face into her hair. Just sinks into me with this soft, shaky exhale.
“You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed this,” I whisper.
“You saw me five days ago.”
“Five too many.” I breathe her in. That warm scent that clings to her skin – vanilla and heat and something sweeter I can never name. It’s already stuck in my lungs, and I don’t want it gone.
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She smiles against my shoulder. Her fingers fist in my hoodie.
“You smell like plane.”
“You smell like home.”
Cam groans behind us. “Jesus Christ. Get a room. Or at least throw me a cookie so I can die with sugar in my mouth.”
Emilia laughs. It’s the first real one since I walked in, and I feel it in my chest.
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Did you bring him because you had to?”
“He invited himself. Emotional support, apparently.”
“Completely valid,” Cam says, already halfway into a seat. “Also, I missed the cookies. I missed me in this bakery.”
I shoot him a glare. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I get that a lot.”
Emilia pats my chest and steps back. “Alright. Sit down. I’ll grab something.”
“I’ll help,” I say, not ready to let go of her.
“No.” She starts wriggling out of my hold, but I tighten my arms just a little.
“Come on,” I tease. “Just one more second.”
“Liam-”
“Calm down.”
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“Liam!”
I lean in, brushing my lips over the batter smeared on her jaw. She freezes. I pull back just enough to smirk.
“Sweet.”
Her whole face lights up red. “Out. Get out. Go sit. You’re banned from the kitchen.” She practically pushes me and Cam out.
—
She spins around and heads back – bumping into the edge of a stool on the way, which totally ruins her cool exit. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
“Don’t say a word,” she warns, pointing at me without looking back.
Cam leans closer. “You’re so far gone it’s tragic.”
I don’t look away from her. “Shut up.”
EMILIA
Cam leaves with a box of cinnamon rolls, two cookies, and a promise that he’ll “pretend this never happened if he’s bribed again tomorrow.” Once the door finally shuts behind him, I sag against the counter and exhale like I’ve survived a natural disaster.
“Is it just me,” Liam says, already moving toward me again, “or does he get more unbearable every time he sees you?”
“He just really likes sugar,” I mumble, turning to rinse a mixing bowl, even though I’ve washed it twice already. Anything to distract from how much I want to crawl into his arms again.
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Chapter 180
