Page 64 of Landing Liam

“I went back to the room at the lodge,” he says, his words heavy and weighted. “But you weren’t there.”

My heart tightens as I take in the tension in his jaw, the storm brewing in his eyes. Less than an hour ago, we were tangled together in bed, sharing moments I thought were real, unshakable. Now, everything feels fragile, like a house of cards ready to collapse. His entire world is unraveling, and somehow, I’m tied up in the chaos.

“I didn’t leak the story,” I blurt out, unable to hold back. “I would never do that to you.”

His gaze sharpens, and his posture stiffens. “Your text messages say otherwise,” he replies, his walls towering and impenetrable.

“Please.” My voice wavers, but I stand firm, meeting his guarded eyes. “Will you give me a chance to tell you the truth?”

I swipe my room card, the little green light blinking as the lock clicks open. I push the door ajar and wait for him to respond, holding my breath.

Liam exhales heavily, the sound thick with frustration and uncertainty. “I don’t think I have much of a choice, do I?” he says, stepping forward, his presence filling the space between us.

The words sting, but I nod, stepping aside to let him in. This is my chance—maybe my only chance—to explain. And I can only hope he’s willing to listen.

Liam sits on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as his gaze locks onto the floor. I lean against the dresser, feeling like it’s the only thing holding me upright.

“My boss received a tip,” I begin, the words tumbling out faster than I can organize them. “I didn’t want to do the story. I didn’t want to drive all this way in my crappy car with no heat to cover a sports competition about a snowboarder I’d never even heard of. But… I needed something big, Liam. I can’t keep writing the same recycled articles if I want a promotion—or if I want a car that doesn’t require a screwdriver to start.”

His head lifts slightly, his eyes darkening with something I can’t quite place.

“So, against my better judgment, I came here hoping you might be the story that changes everything for me. The story that alters the trajectory of my career. But then I met you.” My voice softens, cracking under the crushing weight of my emotions. “And you aren’t just a story, Liam. Not to me.”

He looks up at me now, fully, his expression undeniably intense.

“My gut instinct from the moment I saw you in that coffee shop was that you were a good guy,” I continue. “The kind of guy who would never risk his career. And I still believe that. I know that’s who you are.”

“Can you prove you didn’t leak it?” he asks, cautious.

I shrug, feeling the sting of his doubt. “You can go through my emails, my laptop, whatever you want. I mean,” I pause, my tone sharpening, “you already went through my text messages.” I exhale heavily, trying to steady myself. “But think about it, Liam—why would I give another news source the story I’m here trying to use to build my career? Why wouldn’t I publish it with my own newspaper? With my editor, someone I trust, at a reputable outlet?”

He leans back slightly, nodding. “That’s a good point,” he concedes. “But… I trusted you, and now I don’t know if I can anymore.”

The words slice through me. I nod, forcing myself to acknowledge his feelings. “That’s fair. I should have just been honest. But I didn’t expect to like you so much.”

He looks at me, his eyes softening just a fraction. “My publicist is getting ready to release a statement. I have to go take a drug test to prove I’m clean,” he says. Then, his voice grows steadier. “But I need your help.”

“Me?” I ask, blinking in surprise.

“I need to find out who leaked this,” he explains. “Can you help me do that?”

I swallow hard, every nerve in my body screaming to close the distance between us. “I’ll do anything you need me to do.”

“What about your job?” he asks, the edges of his face filled with curiosity and concern. “What happens now that someone else leaked the story?”

I shake my head, shrugging lightly. “I’ll deal with my editor tomorrow. If we can disprove the allegations, it’ll look better for me anyway.”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it’s laced with something that feels like disbelief. “You really have to start your car with a screwdriver?”

I nod, laughing softly. “Yeah, and I’m going to be rooming with a bunch of boys when I get back because my salary is embarrassingly low.”

Something shifts in his expression. It’s subtle, but there’s a flicker of warmth in his eyes now—a glimmer of the Liam I’ve spent the last 24 hours falling for.

“You’ve been investigating,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What do you have so far?”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, collecting my thoughts, before meeting his gaze. “Not much. But I’ve noticed a pattern. Around the time you started dating your ex, Lyla, stories about your personal life started ramping up in the press. It’s… consistent. Someone’s been feeding them information.”

He clicks his tongue, nodding slowly. “Sounds like we’re on the same page then.”