The fire had burned down to glowing coals by the time Liam found me that evening. Most of the brothers were scattered—some upstairs, some in the kitchen arguing over a card game. The living room was dim, only the hearth and a single lamp casting soft light across the rugs and leather chairs.
I was curled on the sectional with a blanket, staring into the flames, lost in my own thoughts. The overheard argument still lingered like smoke in my lungs. “Stay.” The word had taken root.
Liam appeared in the doorway wearing gray sweatpants and a faded black hoodie. He hesitated, hands in his pockets, then crossed the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch. Not too close. Not too far.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
He leaned forward, elbows on knee
