CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The rain had stopped, leaving Chicago's streets shining under the morning sun. I woke up in Liam's guest room, the sheets soft and cool against my skin, the faint hum of the city filtering through the window. It had been a week since I'd moved in after the break-in at my place, and somehow, the days had slipped into a comfortable rhythm. No big talks about what was next just us, sharing the space, making the most of it. I strolled downstairs, my bare feet quiet on the wood floors. The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee and something baking muffins, maybe. Liam was there, in his usual spot at the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. He looked up when I entered, his smile easy and bright. "Morning, Nita. Sleep okay?" "Yeah, pretty good," I said, sliding onto a stool at the counter. "What's on
- Writer
