Liam stood there, his face a thundercloud.
"Ava, what marriage?"
Hanging up, I calmly made up an excuse to brush him off. Thankfully, Liam didn't seem to overthink it, a mask of indifference on his face.
My expression was icy as I spoke.
"What are you doing at my house?"
Liam sprawled onto my sofa and crossed his legs as if he owned the place.
"I want to throw a welcome party for Chloe. I remember she loves the ocean, and this beach house of yours in the Hamptons would be perfect. Let me borrow it for a day?"
Liam said this with complete entitlement, then nudged my elbow.
"We're all buddies. You wouldn't refuse to help me win my girl over, would you?"
Friends. There it was again.
Liam managed to mention it every few sentences. Was he trying to warn me not to get any ideas?
Too bad for him. He was giving himself too much credit.
I was leaving soon anyway.
"Fine, do whatever you want."
I couldn't be bothered to waste another word on him and turned to go upstairs.
But behind me, I saw a flicker of surprise cross Liam's eyes.
The next day, as soon as I got out of bed, I saw the house was filled with champagne roses, a fairy-tale scene.
Liam had said he was planning to confess his undying love to Chloe here today. Naturally, he had to pull out all the stops.
But his words reminded me of something.
Romance should start with a bouquet of flowers.
Back when I thought Liam and I were a couple, I'd hinted that I wanted a bit of romance, maybe a bouquet of flowers.
But Liam's response had been a dismissive laugh.
"Ava, seriously? We've slept together countless times. What do you need flowers for? That's so cliché."
Now, smelling the rich fragrance of the flowers all around me, I finally understood.
It wasn't that Liam wasn't romantic; it was just that I wasn't the one he loved.
Two hours later, the welcome party began.
Our mutual friends arrived, along with Chloe.
After seven years, her every move was still so elegant and sexy.
Liam's gaze was practically glued to her, and he kept awkwardly trying to strike up conversations.
Finally, someone couldn't help but ask in confusion.
"Liam, aren't you and Ava a thing?"
Liam's expression soured, and he quickly snapped back.
"What are you talking about! Ava and I are purely platonic. We're best buds, okay? Don't spread rumors!"
"Besides, my type is a supermodel, like Chloe. Ava's got this nasty scar on her right hip. It's disgusting. Why would I ever be into that?"
My breath hitched, and my nails dug into my palms.
Five years ago, Liam had gotten drunk over Chloe and picked a fight with some guys from the university football team.
At the critical moment, I had thrown myself in front of him and taken a knife for him.
Ever since, a deep scar remained on my right hip.
At the time, Liam's eyes were so red they looked like they might bleed. He'd sworn that his life was mine from that day on.
He would spend the rest of his life protecting me, never letting me suffer the slightest grievance.
But now, just to distance himself from me in front of Chloe, he was exposing my scar to the world.
"Liam, Ava's a lady. You can't talk about her like that."
As a chill fell over the room, Chloe spoke up, her voice a soft balm.
Liam immediately "tsked."
"What 'lady'? Ava's got thick skin. She's tougher than any of us guys!"
"Don't worry, Chloe. We've known each other for years. Don't you think I know her?"
"Right, Ava?"
As he spoke, where no one could see, he gave my inner thigh a sharp pinch—a silent command to play along.
Disgusted, I slapped his hand away and said coldly, "Are you kidding me, Liam? Seven years ago, you were a whimpering puppy. The second she's back, you can't wait to start licking her boots again."
"You sure got over being ready to die for her pretty damn quick. When it comes to being tough, nobody beats you."
As soon as the words left my mouth, the entire room went silent.
Liam's face turned thunderous, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. Then, he suddenly grabbed a wine bottle and smashed it on the floor!
"Ava!"
