Capture

Rumors and Gossip

The rest of the day passed without much trouble. I waved goodbye to Niall and the rest of the crew, offering a practiced smile on my way out. The office was still buzzing with post-lunch energy as I reached the elevators—and found Perrie standing there, scrolling on her phone.

Zayn's question floated back into my mind like an itch I couldn't ignore.

"Hey," I said, drawing her attention. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but... are you seeing anyone?"

Her brows lifted, confused. "Wow. Wasn't expecting that question," she said with a surprised laugh.

I cringed. "Yeah—forget I said anything."

"No, it's fine." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm single, though. Why?"

"Um... Zayn—you know, the bike messenger—he asked me earlier if I knew whether you were single."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up, just a little.

"Yeah. He seemed... interested."

"What did he say exactly?"

"He just wanted to know if you were seeing anyone," I said casually, leaning against the elevator wall.

Perrie grinned. "Thanks for telling me. I've kinda had a crush on him for a while."

"Seriously?" I blinked.

"Ever since he and Liam started coming in regularly."

"How long's that been?"

She tilted her head, thinking. "Four years, give or take?"

Four years. My brain immediately flicked back to what Harry had said—about Liam moving into our building around four years ago. I made a mental note I couldn't quite explain.

"So... you and Liam, huh?" Perrie said out of nowhere, her tone light, teasing—but it hit like a jab to the ribs.

"What? God, no. We're neighbors. That's all. If anything, I can't stand him."

"I kind of figured from the slap," she chuckled.

I groaned. "It wasn't like that."

"You two have history?"

"No. Absolutely not," I said too quickly. "Wait—do people think we do?"

"You slapped him in the break room, Emma. People are gonna talk."

"What are they saying?" I asked cautiously.

"Nothing true," she said gently. "Just whispers. Office stuff. You know how it is."

Her kindness softened the blow. She could've gossiped—she probably had—but she clearly wasn't trying to be cruel.

I hesitated, then blurted it out: "We almost kissed."

Perrie turned to me, fully now. "What?"

"This weekend. Liam and I—we almost kissed. It was stupid. We got stuck in the lift, and somehow... I don't know, we actually talked. Then he leaned in and..."

"But you didn't kiss?"

"Landlord interrupted us. Pulled the doors open just as he was about to."

Perrie raised an eyebrow. "So the slap..."

"Yeah," I sighed. "Today he was being a jerk, so I brought up the almost-kiss, hoping maybe he'd—God, I don't even know—be less of a tool? But instead, he said he only wanted to kiss me to shut me up."

"Yikes."

"Exactly. I reminded him of a moment that—maybe—meant something, and he used it to insult me."

She gave a half-smile. "He's not a jerk. Just... overcompensates. He likes to showboat."

"Everyone keeps saying he's secretly nice," I muttered. "Still waiting to see that version."

Perrie shrugged. "Zayn mentioned he's kind of a loner. A runaway, even."

"A runaway?" I frowned.

"Not literally. I don't really know anything specific. But if you want answers, maybe... ask him?"

The elevator arrived. She gave me a wave as she stepped off, and we walked to our cars in separate directions.

At home, I kicked off my shoes, poured a generous glass of wine, and opened my laptop. Casey's face popped up a second later, all wide eyes and warmth. "Oh, are you a sight for sore eyes!"

"Speak for yourself. You look amazing."

"I miss you!" she beamed. "Now spill everything."

"My job's great. Apartment is perfect. London is... honestly magical."

"And your neighbor?"

I groaned, tipping the wine glass to my lips. "Do we have to?"

"That bad?"

"He's insufferable." I took another swig of my wine. "I slapped him today."

Casey gasped mid-bite. "What?"

"At work."

"Why?!"

"We were stuck in the elevator together over the weekend. We fought, obviously, but then... it shifted. He almost kissed me."

Her eyes widened. "Almost?"

"We were interrupted. But today I tried to talk to him—stupid, I know. I thought maybe things had changed."

"And?"

"They hadn't. He pretended like nothing happened. Like we hadn't shared anything at all."

"So you slapped him?"

"After he told me he only leaned in to kiss me so I'd shut up."

"Ouch."

"Right? He's a total jerk."

Casey leaned in, eyes narrowing. "Okay, but be honest—are you upset because he said that, or because... maybe you wanted to kiss him?"

I hesitated, breath caught somewhere between defiance and truth.

"You like him," she said gently.

"I don't. He's rude, arrogant, loud—"

"Emma." Her voice was soft, knowing.

"I'm going to bed," I said too quickly.

She winced. "Sorry. I didn't mean to push. I just... it's good to see you feeling something again."

"It's not him."

"Maybe not, but whatever he is... he's gotten under your skin."

I didn't answer.

Eventually, we said our goodbyes. I shut the laptop with a sigh and drained the last of my wine. That ache in my chest hadn't dulled.

I could hear voices in the hallway. I crept to the peephole and peered through. Liam. Pinned against his door with some girl draped around him like she was starving and he was dinner. Her hands tangled in his hair. His lips locked on hers. He fumbled for his keys one-handed, not missing a beat.

The door finally opened, and just before slipping inside, he unzipped her dress, baring her back to the hallway. She stepped in, laughing breathlessly. He followed, and the door slammed shut behind them.

I let out a slow breath, slid down the door, and rested my forehead on my knees.

God, I hated him.

And I hated that I didn't.