Cookie

16

Liam's room is minimalistic, with a huge queen-sized bed beside a simple two-door wardrobe and a wooden nightstand cluttered with books. Everything is white-the walls, the floor, the furniture, even the little rug in front of the bed. The room feels vast, almost empty, yet peaceful. The large windows let in natural light, creating a cozy atmosphere that contrasts with Liam himself. His space feels calm, clean, and almost too perfect. It's everything he is not.

I let my clothes fall onto the bed and head to the bathroom to wash away the lingering sensation of his touch. The bathroom, like his room, is all bright whites, almost sterile in its cleanliness. In the center, a bathtub the size of a small pool sits, its gleaming porcelain surface almost mocking the one I thought was luxurious back home. I imagine what it would feel like to lie in it, letting the warm water wash away the exhaustion of the day.

A large mirror covers the wall behind me, reflecting the bathtub and the rest of the space. To my right, a small glass shower and a shelf stocked with a variety of manly hygiene products-soap, shower gel, shampoo-all from the same high-end brand. I grab one of his soft, fluffy towels and step into the shower, the hot water soothing my skin, though my mind refuses to settle. I try to focus on the simple act of washing my hair, but the scent of Liam's earthy cologne fills the space around me, mixing with the rich fragrance of his shampoo.

I can't stop thinking about it-how his smell is everywhere. It's comforting, and yet it makes my heart race, reminding me of the near kiss we shared. It's confusing. Too much. He wanted it. I wanted it. If his friend hadn't walked in, I would have let him kiss me. I would've done anything.

But I can't forget-this would be a mistake.

And yet, a beautiful mistake.

I touch my lips, where his almost touched mine, my skin tingling with the memory. His hands on my waist, pulling me closer, his voice breaking with the weight of his desire. There was a battle inside him, I could hear it in the way his words faltered. It was real, wasn't it?

What do we do now? Do we pretend nothing happened, or do we talk about it?

I pull myself out of my thoughts, quickly finishing my shower. The emotional whirlwind isn't slowing down.

I pick up my underwear and slip into it, then reach for my black jeans. Not the usual loose pair I'd wear, but a tighter one, hugging my curves in a way I've tried to hide for over a year. I pair them with a black spaghetti strap tank top and a light gray sweater that's far too sheer to wear alone. Black boots complete the outfit. It's not daring or provocative, but for me, it feels bold.

I leave my hair damp, not wanting to rummage through Liam's things for a blow dryer, deciding that would be too intrusive. Instead, I leave the room, forcing a smile onto my face, though the uncertainty gnaws at me. Will he notice the change in my style? It's a silly thought, but I can't help it.

"Twinkle, there you are!" Mary's voice rings out as soon as I open the door. "I was looking for you..."

When she sees me, she freezes, her eyes and mouth wide open in surprise. She's dressed casually, in a pair of dark blue jeans that hug her figure just right, and a white off-the-shoulder sweater that makes her look effortlessly chic. Her white Converse tie the whole look together, giving her a fresh, carefree vibe.

"Nataly, you look... oh my God, Twinkle, I love your outfit!" She's almost teary-eyed as she rushes to hug me. "Who are you, and what did you do with my friend?" She laughs, pulling me into a tight embrace.

I inhale the familiar scent of her Chanel Allure perfume, a scent that's been my constant comfort over the past year. She's been there for me through everything, patiently waiting for me to heal, giving me space when I needed it and support when I didn't know I did.

"Let's get you downstairs, Nat."

We walk down the hallway when she suddenly stops, grabs my hand, and leans in close to whisper in my ear.

"I'm proud of you, Twinkle. And if at any moment you want to leave, just say the word. I'll take you home, okay?"

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. The warmth of her words melts my heart.

"I love you so much, Mary."

"Me too, Nat, but don't make me cry," she teases, laughing. "I spent two hours on this makeup, and one tear and it's all ruined."

I laugh with her as we make our way downstairs, but as soon as I step into the living room, my body freezes. My smile falters.

There he is-Liam. Standing two meters in front of me, looking as irresistible as ever, dressed in his usual all-black outfit. His hair is still damp from the shower, and I try not to let my heart skip a beat. But then, I see it.

He's kissing a black-haired girl against the wall. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, and his hands-one under her red tank top, the other squeezed tightly around her waist-are moving intimately. The sight makes me feel sick. Her moans echo in the room, and I can't tear my eyes away. He's grinding against her, and my stomach churns.

"Liam, get a fucking room!" Mary calls out, unaware of the storm raging inside me.

I hear her, but my mind is reeling. This is who Liam is, right? This is how he is with every girl. Why did I think it would be any different with me? Why did I let myself hope?

Liam pulls away from her at Mary's voice, and I see the brief flash of guilt in his eyes before he turns to face us, offering a smile that quickly fades when he sees me standing there.

"Cookie..." he says, his voice low and strained, and for a second, I almost believe he's sorry.

But then he reaches out toward me, the same hand that was just under that girl's shirt. Something inside me snaps. I take a step back, forcing a smile, my voice coming out bright and casual, though my heart is breaking.

"Sorry for taking over your room," I say, gesturing toward his door. "Hi there," I add, turning to the girl. "I'm Nataly, and this is Mary. Nice to meet you."

I try to walk past him, but Liam steps in my way, his body trapping me between him and the wall. He doesn't touch me, not this time, but I can feel his presence looming over me, and I can't stand it.

"Cookie, I'm sorry, I-"

I lift my hand to his face, touching his cheek with a tenderness I don't feel. I force a smile, pushing back the tears that threaten to spill.

"You don't have to explain, Liam," I say, my voice steady, even though my chest feels tight. "I'm just here to meet your friends." I look at the girl behind him. "You should go back to her. You two look like you have... things to work out."

I step away from him, walking briskly toward the door with Mary right behind me. I tell myself I won't fall into this trap again. I won't let myself believe in something that isn't real. If I do, I'll lose him forever, and I can't do that.

As we step outside, I feel the weight of what just happened sinking in. But I also feel stronger. I'm not going to let him hurt me anymore. Not like this.

Outside, the yard is full of people-six guys, including Logan, and four girls, all talking, laughing, and enjoying the night. The familiar mix of nervousness and excitement doesn't creep up on me. Instead, I feel an odd sense of calm. I squeeze Mary's hand as she leads me to Logan, who hands me a glass of Coke, grinning.

"Hey everyone," he announces, his voice booming. "This is my girlfriend, Mary. So, boys, don't even think about looking at her."

Laughter fills the air as one of the guys makes a joke, and another girl playfully slaps his head. The teasing energy lightens my mood, and I smile.

"And this," Logan says, pointing to me, "is Nataly." He turns to us. "Girls, guys, this is everyone. You'll get to know them throughout the night."

I glance around, unsure of where to look, and then we all greet each other, awkwardly but kindly. The girls are easy to talk to, sharing funny stories about Logan and Liam, making me laugh. I wish I could remember their names, but there are too many.

I observe Liam and Logan again, realizing how lucky they are to have such a close-knit group of friends. They've known each other for years, their bond unbreakable. I envy them, wishing I could have the same kind of connection, but I know it's too late for me.