LIAM ALONE IN HIS ROOM IN HIS SHARED APARTMENT, LOST IN THOUGHT
Liam stared at the ceiling. It had become his canvas of contemplation lately. The lights were dim, his room was quiet, and yet his mind roared louder than any storm. He had always been a man who thought with precision, who made decisions with calculated confidence. But lately, everything felt blurred, as if the lines between right and wrong had smudged into shades of gray.
It had been days since he last saw Mia. Not physically — she'd been around, smiling with Austin, laughing in the kitchen when she came over, her voice like a melody Liam couldn't unhear. It was her presence that haunted him, not her image. The way she brushed her hair behind her ear. The sparkle in her eyes when she spoke with passion. How she reached for Austin's hand — not his — and held it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She wasn't his. She could never be. That was the truth he tried so hard to swallow, but every time, it got stuck in his throat.
"F*ck," Liam muttered, sitting up in bed, running his hand through his hair. The weight on his chest pressed harder.
Mia was the forbidden fruit, the one thing he shouldn't want. And yet, she lived in his thoughts like she owned the lease. Every smile she gave him felt like a tease, even if he knew deep down she meant nothing by it.
He had to let go. He needed to.
And then there was Zara.
Zara had walked into his life like a spark in a dry field. Unexpected. Sudden. And entirely unforgettable. He hadn't planned to see her again, but life had a funny way of testing a man's resolve. That second night at the lounge, her lips had tasted like honey and trouble. Her moans still echoed in his ears. But it wasn't just the sex — though God knew that was mind-blowing — it was how she made him forget. For those few hours, Mia didn't exist.
Liam leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly like a man on the verge of prayer.
"What if Zara could be more?" he whispered into the empty room. "What if she's the key to finally closing the door on Mia?"
He hated that the thought didn't repulse him. He hated that he was considering it — using one woman to forget another. But was it really using her if part of him wanted to want her?
Zara was beautiful. Unapologetic. Fiery. There was something refreshing about her, about the way she didn't chase him but still burned in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, he could redirect the intensity in his chest toward someone who actually wasn't off limits.
He stood, pacing slowly, eyes fixated on nothing.
"I mean... what do I really feel for Mia?" he asked himself out loud. "Is it love? Or just obsession? Is it because she's with Austin? Is that what makes her so... tempting?"
He clenched his jaw.
"No," he growled. "It's not about competition. Mia... she gets me. She sees through my bullshit. She's not scared of who I am."
But she's not yours. She never will be.
The thought hit him like a brick. He paused, hand on his dresser, breathing heavily.
Maybe Zara wasn't a replacement. Maybe she could be his redemption.
He could see it — her lying next to him in the mornings, wild hair sprawled on his pillow. Her laughter in the hallway. Her sharp tongue challenging him, keeping him on his toes.
She could be good for him.
He needed someone to help him let go of what he couldn't have.
But could he do it? Could he ask her? Would she even say yes?
Zara didn't strike him as the type to fall easily. She might laugh in his face if he suggested dating — especially after how it all started.
Still...
He picked up his phone, scrolling to her name in his contacts. He hovered his thumb over the call button, then stopped. Not yet. He wasn't ready to say it out loud.
He dropped the phone on the bed and walked to the window, staring at the city lights below. So many people, so many lives. Yet his felt stuck between two women — one he couldn't have and one he might.
And suddenly, he felt exhausted.
He sat on the edge of the bed again.
"Liam, man up," he said to himself. "Mia is not an option. If you stay in this place, you'll drown. Zara... she's your way out. But not as a game. Not as a rebound. If you're going to do this, be real. Be honest. With her. And with yourself."
He nodded slowly.
Maybe Zara could be the beginning of something new. Something clean. A future not tainted by betrayal.
He just had to be brave enough to try.
He exhaled deeply, lying back down.
"I'll sleep on it," he muttered. "But I think... I think I already know what I want."
He closed his eyes.
For the first time in a long while, Mia's face didn't haunt him.
It was Zara's smile that lingered in the dark.
THE NEXT DAY
The next morning, Liam stepped into the shower and let the cold water slap some sense into him. His body remembered Zara in detail — the way her nails dug into his back, how her thighs clenched when he moved inside her. But it was the look she gave him afterward that haunted him more than the heat of the moment — like she wanted more, but wouldn't dare ask for it.
He wanted to see that look again.
And maybe he wanted to be the reason behind it.
He got out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, and stared at himself in the mirror.
"You're really thinking about a relationship," he said, lips twitching into a self-deprecating smirk. "Mr. I-don't-do-feelings is out here catching them."
He sighed, brushing a hand over his stubble.
"I don't even know if she likes me like that. It was just sex. Twice."
But not just sex.
It hadn't felt casual. Not to him. And by the way she looked at him when she left the lounge the last time...
Something had shifted.
He pulled on a hoodie and joggers, then sat down at the kitchen bar, coffee in hand.
Mia popped into his mind again. He grimaced.
"I need this to end," he muttered. "I can't keep walking into rooms with Austin and pretending everything's normal."
His best friend. His brother.
Liam would never forgive himself if he crossed that line. Even thinking about it felt dirty.
So no more Mia.
Only Zara.
He didn't know if it would work. But it was worth trying. It had to be.
He picked up his phone again.
Still, he didn't call.
Instead, he opened his Notes app and began typing.
Draft Message to Zara:
Hey. I've been thinking a lot lately. About you. About us. I know what we had was spontaneous — wild even. But it meant more to me than I expected. I don't know if you'd be open to seeing where this could go, but I wanted to ask. Not as a game. Not for fun. For real.
He stared at it, hands trembling slightly.
Then he deleted it.
Not yet.
But soon.
Very soon.