The Wrong Brother’s Obsession
Waiting.
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Liam lay flat on the dock, arms stretched behind his head, hair catching the glow of the sinking sun.
I stayed sitting upright, knees tucked to my chest, too restless to match his ease. He always looked like he belonged everywhere—like even the sky bent to him.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked suddenly, eyes still closed, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I’m not.”
He cracked one eye open, lazy and knowing. “You are. And for the record? I don’t mind.”