Always

Chapter Four

Mia

I don’t know when exactly it changed.

Maybe it was the way Liam looked at me when I walked down the steps tonight. Or the way he ignored every girl who called his name the second we hit the sand. Or maybe it was when the first firework exploded overhead and I grabbed his hand without thinking—and he held on like he never planned to let go.

Whatever it was, something feels different.

We’re sitting close to the bonfire now, our knees almost touching. The music is loud, the air smells like smoke and salt, and laughter carries across the shoreline. Normally, I’d feel out of place here. Like I’m observing instead of participating.

But with Liam beside me, I feel steady.

“Cold?” he asks when a breeze lifts my hair.

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. He shrugs off his flannel anyway and drapes it over my shoulders. The fabric is warm from his skin, and the simple gesture makes my chest tighten.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say softly.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I do.”

I glance around and notice the looks again. The curious whispers. Girls watching him. Guys watching me. It’s strange being seen like this—like I’m suddenly part of a story everyone’s trying to figure out.

“Your fan club seems confused,” I tease.

He scoffs. “They’ll survive.”

“You’re not going to go talk to them?”

He looks at me like I’ve said something ridiculous. “Why would I?”

I don’t know why that answer sends warmth rushing through me.

A group of seniors starts a chant closer to the water, daring people to run into the ocean fully clothed. Someone shouts Liam’s name, trying to pull him into it.

He stands, offering me his hand. “Come on.”

“To the freezing ocean? Absolutely not.”

He grins. “Live a little, Mia.”

I hesitate for half a second before placing my hand in his again.

We run toward the shoreline with everyone else, laughing as the waves crash against our legs. The water is shockingly cold, and I shriek, trying to retreat—but Liam steadies me, his hands firm on my waist.

The world narrows to the space between us.

His laughter fades as our eyes lock.

For a second, neither of us moves.

His hands are still on me. My fingers are gripping his shirt. The ocean swirls around our ankles, fireworks bursting somewhere behind us.

This is new.

This isn’t scraped knees or shared homework or childhood promises.

This is something else.

And the way he’s looking at me now?

It makes me wonder if he’s finally feeling it too.