3: No Room

◇•Liam•◇

"You've got to be kidding me," she hissed, taking another step back.

I blinked, surprised—then grinned.

"Look who we have here. Maya," I said. Her name rolled off my tongue, feeling both foreign and oddly familiar.

I sipped the coffee in my hand, eyes never leaving her.

She looked borderline annoyed—irritated, even. By me.

"This is a pleasant surprise. You came looking for me," I placed a hand over my chest, and she scrunched up her nose.

"You're in the wrong house," she snapped. "I booked this place for a month. In my name!" She wagged a finger, and I leaned casually in the doorway.

"So did I, pookie," I muttered. Her brows furrowed before she frowned.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Carter. But you should stop."

I raised an eyebrow. "I should be the one asking what game you’re playing. Are you stalking me? Because there’s no way you’d just 'mysteriously' show up at my door."

I crossed my legs and tilted my head.

"Or tell me—did you miss me so much you came looking?" I smirked. She glared, or at least tried to.

"It’s too fucking early to call the police," she mumbled. "I have no idea what you’re talking about, but this is my vacation house."

I raised a brow. Okay, she looked serious. Like, serious serious.

I straightened up.

"I've been here a month, Sugar. I don’t know who scammed you out of your money, but trust me—you’ve got it all wrong."

Her frown deepened.

"Don’t... don’t call me that," she muttered, adjusting the hood of her sweatshirt.

I grinned.

"Aren’t you a sweet little thing?" I teased.

She stepped back and shook her head. "I'm calling the cops."

She grabbed her phone, and I just raised a lazy brow. She could call whoever she wanted. The truth still stood—she’d been scammed.

How much had she paid, anyway?

"Hey. Hi, I have an emergency..." she began, her voice tight with irritation. I took that moment to study her.

She was different now. Very different.

It had been—what?—seven years since high school? I hadn’t seen her since.

The girl with the huge glasses, braces, and long skirts was gone—replaced with someone entirely new.

And if you ask me... hot.

Even with the hoodie hiding half her face, the part I could see told me everything I needed to know.

Petite. Round face. Long lashes. Full lips. Brown eyes—still hidden behind memory-thick glasses in my mind.

Her eyes met mine. My lips curled up.

"…probably in his early thirties. Yeah, yeah... I don’t see any weapons, but he could be hiding them," she said into the phone.

I huffed. Jesus. Seriously?

"Please do," she muttered, ending the call and folding her arms.

"The cops will be here soon. You can still leave while you can. I’ll tell them you got away."

"You grew some guts, I see," I said, turning around and walking into the house.

"Let me know when they get here," I added, catching her wide-eyed stare before I shut the door.

Inside, I set the coffee on the table and walked to the window. I peeked through the curtain.

She was still there. Lips pursed, eyes glued to her phone.

She glanced down the hill, then back to her screen. Okay—she wasn’t leaving.

I wasn’t in the mood for this kind of drama. And as nice as it was seeing her again after seven years... I already wanted her gone.

The cops showed up in under thirty minutes.

I watched through the window as she pointed toward the door. I cursed under my breath, grabbed a shirt off the couch, and pulled it on as I headed to the door.

I opened it just as the cop was about to knock. He froze mid-air, then dropped his hand and tilted his head.

"Ciao," he greeted.

I raised a brow and glanced at Maya. She frowned, arms crossed.

"Salve, agente. Come posso aiutarla?" I replied. If we were doing this, we were doing it right. The officer looked as surprised as Maya.

I leaned on the doorframe, mirroring her posture.

He cleared his throat and switched to English. "This lady reported a case of break-in and trespassing."

"Really?" I straightened and pretended not to notice Maya checking me out. "In my defense, Officer, she got scammed. Paid for a place that wasn’t hers."

"I didn’t!" Maya fired back. "I booked this place a month ago! The agent told me the key would be under the mat!"

The officer turned to me. "And when did you arrive?"

"A month ago. Been here since," I said, and the cop muttered something under his breath, clearly agitated.

Hey, I wasn’t the one who called him.

He walked to the mat. I stepped back. He lifted it, frowned, and turned to Maya.

"There’s nothing here. No key."

She blinked, confused.

"What? There should be. He said it was right there," she muttered, checking for herself.

I sighed.

"Pretty obvious she got duped—and trespassed," I pointed out.

The officer frowned. "Ma’am, you've been scammed. Please find somewhere else to stay while we sort this."

Maya tugged at her hoodie, lips pressed tight. She nodded.

"I’m sorry for..." she gestured vaguely before sighing. "Thanks for coming."

The officer nodded before walking down the steps.

Without looking at me, she grabbed her suitcase.

"Not gonna apologize for barging in?" I asked.

She turned. "I’m not sorry. You’ve always been a piece of shit," she snapped.

I caught the slight tremble in her lips before she turned and dragged her bag down the steps.

I pressed my lips together. My expression shifted as I watched her go, then quietly shut the door.

I was here to get away from life. Things had been rough lately. The spotlight wasn’t shining anymore—my career was tanking. Recognition? Gone.

I needed a break. The last thing I expected was Maya Caldwell showing up at my door, all brown eyes and attitude.

The same girl I used to mock.

I spent the next few hours on the couch, binge-watching some show until night fell.

Then—a knock.

I frowned. I wasn’t expecting anyone. No one even knew I was here.

I opened the door.

Maya stood there, suitcase in hand. She gave me a tight smile.

"Hi. Can I stay the night? No rooms are available," she muttered.

I looked her over, then stepped aside.

I wasn’t in the mood to tease her. And I wasn’t sure she’d tolerate it anyway.

Maya and I, under the same roof... one bed…

Oh, fuck.