Page 1 of Point Proven
CHAPTER ONE
SIMON
Dishes crashed, breaking apart the monotonous atmosphere as I wadded up the napkin next to me, chucking it at aslightlyspiraling Liam.
Loud, unpredictable noises caused him to recoil, and Iknewit was my fault. Each one reminded him ofthatland mine, of that fateful day that sent us into each other’s arms. While it had brought us closer, it had also caused irreparable damage to his mental state.
I wasn’t entirely sane either, my personality leaning into obnoxious comments and humor to cope with what we’d gone through. It was, as my therapist would say, “detrimental to my healing,” and I should “let myself feel my emotions.”
Utter bullshit, but Liam thought it was good to attend the shrew, so I went. It wasn’t that I hated it; it just didn’t offer much comfort.
Not like Liam did.
He was everything, and our time living together had increased the need for him—a billowing devotion I would never let go.
Clearing my throat, I threaded my fingers through his. “Hey, you’re eating at a diner with me. We’re not there, okay?”
He loosened a sigh, rubbing his other hand across his thigh—a nervous habit I was more than familiar with. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
“I know you know, but I’m right here.Andyou’re sitting next to my good leg. Good vibes, you know?” Winking, I hoped it eased the tension in his shoulders and the knitting of those bushy brows.
He rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling. “Oh Christ, Simon.”
“Annnnd, we are meeting Thorne and Oren, so it’s bound to be entertaining. Way more fun than the burnt toast we’re about to receive.”
Craning his head back toward me, he shook his head. “The bread is good with strawberry jam. Stop being mean. And besides, at least burnt toast shows up on time. Unlikesomepeople.”
“I’m not being mean; it’s just… extra crunchy.” Squeezing his hand, I rested my other on his thigh. “They’re always late because they fuck like rabbits. I mean?—”
“Children.”He swatted at my chest. “There arechildren.”
“Well, obviouslysomeonehad to fuck if there are children. Freedom of speech, Liam.”
Drawing a dramatic breath, his coffee-colored irises found mine. “You are going to give me an aneurysm.”
“Oh, shush. Look. I’ll prove it.”
Twisting toward the table next to us, both kids were already staring at me. Grinning, I waved, enjoying this opportunity as both parents were too busy on their phones. “You. You’re like what, eight?”
The kid nodded, blue eyes wide as his sister crossed her arms over her chest, unimpressed.
“You know what the word fuck is, right?”
Liam tugged on my shoulder.“Simon.”
“I mean, yeah,” the girl muttered, but the boy just locked eyes with me, and I kind of felt…bad.
“Well, uh, enjoy your burnt brunch,” I said before shifting back against the seat. Folding my hands over the table, I focused on my cup. “I mean, Iwascorrect, but maybe you were right, Liam.”
I caught the smile on his lips from my peripheral, a stifled chuckle quickly following. Dipping his face into the crook of his arm, his laughter built, something so inherently hilarious that I must’ve missed it.
Or he was cackling at me.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’ve never…” Struggling to pull himself together, he spat the rest out between huffed chuckles. “I’ve never seen you shut down so fast. And by a kid?”
“Well, he had this piercing stare, you know? It wasn’t…” At his continued laughter, I poked his side. “Oh, shush!”
