Chapter 7

Seven

Liam

I woke to the feeling of something warm and soft pressed against my chest. For a second, I thought I was still dreaming, the remnants of sleep blurring the line between what was real and what wasn't. But as I blinked my eyes open, the faint light filtering in through the window told me it was morning.

Mia was curled up next to me, her breathing soft and even. Her hair, wild from sleep, fanned across my shoulder, and her leg was tangled with mine. The embers in the fireplace had gone completely out, and the cool air of the room brushed over us, but the warmth of her body and the soft quilts kept me anchored.

Last night had been... unexpected. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a way to quench the need we both clearly had. But now, lying here with her in my arms, something stirred in me that I hadn't felt in a long time. I tried to shake it off, reminding myself that this wasn't supposed to be complicated. Yet, as I looked at her peaceful expression, it became harder to convince myself.

A sharp, throbbing pain in my ankle yanked me back to reality. I winced, trying to shift my leg without waking her. The boot they'd strapped me into was bulky and awkward, and right now, it felt like it was squeezing the life out of my foot. I bit back a groan, not wanting to disturb Mia, but the pain wasn't something I could ignore.

Mia stirred beside me, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked a few times, then looked up at me, her face still soft with sleep. For a moment, there was a quiet between us, something fragile but real.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice raspy.

"Good morning," I replied, my voice sounding rougher than usual. I shifted again, trying to stretch out my leg. The pain flared, making me clench my jaw.

Mia's eyes dropped to my ankle, and her brow furrowed. "Your ankle... is it bothering you?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without letting out a curse. The throbbing had grown more intense, and all I could think about was getting out of this damn boot.

"Hold on," she said, pulling herself up and gently moving off me. "Let me check it."

She leaned over, her fingers brushing lightly against my leg as she inspected the boot. Her touch was gentle but firm, and despite the pain, I couldn't help but feel something stir in me again. Her brows furrowed in concentration, and after a moment, she adjusted the straps.

"That should help a bit. I think you are supposed to take it off at night," she murmured, her hand lingering on my leg for a second longer than necessary before she pulled away.

"Thanks. Tonight, I will," I muttered, trying to shake off the tension building inside me. "I probably shouldn't have slept without propping it up."

Mia stood up, stretching her arms above her head as she glanced at the clock. "You'll survive," she teased lightly, giving me a hand up to the couch. "But I need to get ready for work. I'll make you some oatmeal before I go. I'll leave it on the kitchen table. And don't forget your meds."

And just like that, the moment passed, and reality set back in. The intimacy of the night before was a distant memory, replaced by the routine of the day. I watched as she gathered her clothes left on the floor from the night before, her movements quick and efficient, like nothing had happened between us.

As she disappeared into the bathroom, I leaned back against the couch cushions, my mind racing. Last night was supposed to be simple—two people scratching an itch. But now... I wasn't so sure. There was something about Mia that was starting to get under my skin. Something I couldn't shake.

But I couldn't let myself think about that. I had other things to worry about—like how the hell I was supposed to get any work done when I could barely walk.

Once Mia left for work, the silence in the cabin became deafening. I glanced at the kitchen, remembering the oatmeal she mentioned. Grudgingly, I made my way to the table, spooning some of the lukewarm oats into my mouth. It wasn't bad—plain, sure—but better than nothing. I washed it down with a cup of coffee, popping the painkillers the nurse had given me.

But with each bite, my restlessness only grew. I wasn't used to this—to being stuck, immobile, and utterly dependent on someone else. Back in Dallas, I ran my company, and controlled every detail of my life, and now? Now, I couldn't even leave the cabin without crutches.

I needed to get my laptop. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing. The embezzlers weren't going to catch themselves, and I wasn't going to solve this case by lying on a couch with my foot propped up like an invalid.

Step by step, I made my way to the door, the uneven floor of the cabin making every movement feel like a battle. I'd just have to make it to my truck, get to my cabin, grab the laptop, and get back before Mia even knew I was gone. Easy.

But as I opened the door and felt the crisp morning air hit me, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that this was a terrible idea. Even Daisy cocked her head and gave me a quizzical look. Ignoring it, I pressed forward. This was something I had to do—if only to prove to myself that I wasn't completely helpless.

The short drive to my cabin felt like an eternity, each bump in the road sending jolts of pain through my left ankle. By the time I pulled into the gravel driveway, I was already second-guessing my decision to leave Mia's place. But I was here now, and I needed that laptop.

Grabbing the crutches, I hobbled out of the truck, each step a reminder of how foolish this whole thing was. The uneven ground made the crutches wobble beneath me. I could feel the strain in my arms and the throbbing in my ankle growing worse with each step, but I pushed through it.

The cabin door was slightly ajar, and I cursed under my breath. I could've sworn I locked it before I left for my run. Carelessness? Maybe. Or was it the painkillers playing tricks on me, making me doubt my own memory? I stood there for a moment, frowning, trying to recall the exact moment I closed the door that fateful afternoon. I was sure I had locked it—wasn't I?

Shaking my head, I shrugged it off. The haze of the meds was probably messing with me. No sense worrying about it now. I shoved the door open with a little too much force, the wood slamming against the wall as I limped inside.

I immediately made my way over to the small desk where my laptop and files were stashed, feeling a small sense of victory. Reaching for them, I paused, the weight of everything settling in. I wasn't just here to gather my stuff for work. I was here because I couldn't stand being helpless, stuck at Mia's, relying on someone else.

Laptop and file folders in hand, I took a deep breath and steadied myself against the desk. The rush of pain and exhaustion from the effort hit me hard, and for a moment, I just stood there, staring out the window at the woods beyond.

I should head back, I thought. Get back to Mia's before she realizes what I've done. But as I turned to leave, the strain on my ankle intensified, and my vision blurred for a second. I leaned heavily on the crutches, biting back a groan.

One more step. Just get back to the truck. But the world tilted slightly, and before I knew it, I was on the ground, the crutches falling away from me with a clatter. I cursed loudly, the frustration and pain mixing together in a wave of defeat.

"Great. Just fucking great," I muttered through gritted teeth. Now, I was stuck, unable to move without making the situation worse.

I wasn't sure how long I had lain there before the sound of an approaching vehicle snapped me out of my wallowing. I looked out the window, my heart sinking as I recognized Mia's truck pulling up beside mine. She was supposed to be at work, not here finding me like this.

Perfect timing .

The door opened, and within seconds, Mia was standing over me, her hands on her hips, looking both furious and concerned. "What the hell are you doing? When I called and didn't get an answer, I figured you were up to no good," she declared, her voice sharp but laced with worry.

I tried to play it off, pushing myself up onto my elbows. "Just grabbing my laptop."

"You couldn't have waited until I got back?" She crouched beside me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me over. "You're in no condition to be walking around, let alone driving out here. What were you thinking?"

I winced, not just from the pain but from the frustration in her voice. "I didn't want to bother you."

Mia let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair. "Bother me? Come on, Liam. You're staying in my house because you can't take care of yourself right now. Bothering me should be the least of your concerns." She grabbed one of the crutches and helped me sit up. "You could've made your ankle worse."

"I'm fine," I muttered, though the throbbing in my leg said otherwise.

"No, you're not," she snapped. "Come on. Let's get you back to my place before you can do more damage to yourself."

With her help, I locked the door and got into her Jeep, trying to ignore the way her arm felt around me as she supported my weight. Once I was back at her place and settled on the couch, Mia crossed her arms and stared me down. "If you needed something from your cabin, all you had to do was ask. I'm not your nurse, but I also don't want you ending up in the hospital again because you're too stubborn to admit you need help."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.

"And don't give me the whole ‘I don't need anyone' speech. You do need help. Right now, you need me, whether you like it or not."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. I hated it, but she was right. "I'm sorry," I finally said, my voice quieter than usual. "I didn't mean to?—"

"Just... please don't do it again," she interrupted, her voice softening. "Okay?"

I nodded, feeling sheepish for the first time in a long time. "Okay."

Mia sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing as she grabbed the laptop from the couch where I had put it and set it on the table beside me. "You're lucky I came home for lunch and discovered you weren't here," she said, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

I offered her a small, grateful smile. "You're already doing too much."

She glanced at me for a long moment before turning toward the kitchen. "You know what? Since you're clearly determined to make your life difficult, I'm going to make dinner tonight."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden shift in tone. "Dinner?"

She shot me a teasing grin. "Yep. Something ‘clean' just the way you like it."

My stomach growled in response, and despite the situation, I couldn't help but smile. "You're really going to cook a clean meal just for me?"

"Don't get used to it," she quipped, already rummaging through the cabinets. "I figured you'd appreciate it after that whole ‘burgers and fries are unhealthy' speech from last night."

I chuckled. Mia was cooking something clean... for me? That was a gesture I hadn't expected. And as she moved around the kitchen, a part of me wondered if this meant she was starting to accept me—really accept me.

I leaned back on the couch, watching her work. The smell of chicken and veggies filled the cabin. I felt less restless and more at ease for the first time in days. Maybe it was the promise of food or the way Mia's presence seemed to fill the space in a way I hadn't realized I needed.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the evening sun streamed through the windows, I couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between us. Something that went beyond the arrangement we had.

But for now, I was content to wait and see.