Always

Chapter three

Liam

I shouldn’t be this nervous.

It’s just a party. Just the beach. Just Mia.

But as she walks down her front steps toward me, I forget how to breathe.

She’s not wearing one of her oversized hoodies tonight. Instead, she’s in a simple sundress that moves with the breeze, her hair down around her shoulders instead of tied back in that messy ponytail I’m used to. She looks… different.

No. Not different.

Unstoppable.

“Took you long enough,” I manage, even though my voice comes out rougher than I intended.

She rolls her eyes. “You said one hour. It’s been forty-five minutes.”

“Felt longer.”

She gives me a look like she knows exactly what I mean, and for a second, the air between us feels heavier than it ever has before.

We walk to the beach side by side like we always have. Our shoulders bump. Our hands brush once, twice. Neither of us pulls away quickly enough.

The music hits us before we see the bonfires. Laughter. Shouting. Someone already setting off fireworks even though it’s barely dark. The whole shoreline is alive.

“Still time to turn back,” she says, though she’s smiling.

“Not a chance.”

The second we step onto the sand, heads turn.

And I see it.

The stares.

Guys from school who barely noticed Mia last year are suddenly paying very close attention. I catch the way Tyler nudges his friend. The way Jason does a double take. It makes something hot and sharp coil in my chest.

Mia doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe she’s pretending not to.

“Hey, Liam!” a girl from my history class calls, waving me over. The kind of girl people expect me to end up with tonight.

I don’t wave back.

Mia glances at me. “You’re popular.”

“Not interested.”

Her eyebrows lift slightly, like that answer surprised her.

We find a spot near one of the bonfires. The flames flicker against her skin, golden and soft, and for a moment everything else fades out—the music, the people, the noise.

It’s just her.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah,” I lie.

Because I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I’ve been to a hundred parties. I’ve had girls flirt, grab my arm, try to pull me away.

But tonight, the only thing I care about is whether Mia’s having a good time. Whether she’s safe. Whether anyone’s looking at her too long.

Whether she’s looking at anyone else.

She laughs at something I say, and it hits me all at once.

This isn’t just protective best friend stuff.

This isn’t just habit.

When she reaches for my hand as a firework explodes overhead, I don’t hesitate.

I hold on.

And I don’t want to let go.