Chapter 45 The taste of lie
Chapter 45: The Taste of a Lie (Liam’s POV)
The air in the library felt like it was charged with electricity. Chloe looked at me, then at the silver flash drive in her hand. Her face was twisted with a mix of rage and disbelief. She couldn't understand why I was standing in front of Elena instead of behind her.
"You’re really doing this?" Chloe whispered. "You’re throwing everything away for her?"
"Give me the drive, Chloe," I said. I didn't yell. I didn't have to. My voice was steady, and for the first time, I felt like I meant every word I was saying. "It’s over. The games, the threats, all of it. Just give it to me and walk away."
Chloe looked at the private investigator, who was awkwardly shifting his weight. She realized the "scandal" she wanted to create was falling apart. With a sharp exhale, she slammed the flash drive onto the mahogany table. It skittered across the wood, stopping right in front of me.
"Fine," Chloe hissed, her eyes welling up with tears she refused to let fall. "Take it. Take the dirt. But don't come crawling back when your father cuts you off. You’re a Vance, Liam. You don't survive in the real world. You’re going to realize that she was just a phase, and by then, I’ll be long gone."
She turned on her heel and stormed out, her heels clicking angrily against the floor. The investigator followed her, looking like he couldn't wait to get away from the drama.
The heavy library doors swung shut with a thud. Silence rushed back in, but it wasn't peaceful. It was heavy. I stood there, staring at the small silver object on the table. It represented everything I hated—the cheating, the shortcuts, the way my world worked.
I picked it up and looked at Elena.
She was leaning against the bookshelf, her hands gripping the edges of the wood so hard her knuckles were white. Her chest was heaving, her midnight blue dress shifting with every jagged breath. She looked terrified, angry, and beautiful all at once.
"You should go," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"I’m not going anywhere," I said.
I stepped toward her. I didn't plan it. I just couldn't stay away. The chemistry between us was like a physical pull, a magnet that didn't care about logic or the fact that we were supposed to be enemies.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. "You just lost your girlfriend. You probably just lost your spot on the team. Why?"
"Because I'm tired of the lies, Elena," I said. I was so close now I could see the golden flecks in her dark eyes. I could smell the scent of her hair—something fresh, like rain on asphalt. "I'm tired of pretending I don't think about you every second of the day."
"Don't," she breathed, her hand coming up to rest against my chest. Her palm was hot, and I could feel my heart racing underneath it. "Don't say things you don't mean."
"I mean it," I rasped.
I reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered there, grazing the soft skin of her neck. She shivered, and a low groan escaped my throat. I didn't want to talk anymore. I didn't want to argue about class or money or my father.
I leaned down and captured her lips with mine.
It wasn't a "dare" kiss. It wasn't a public show. It was deep, hungry, and full of all the words I was too much of a coward to say out loud. My hands found her waist, pulling her flush against me. She tasted like peppermint and fire. For a second, she kissed me back—her fingers tangling in my hair, her body leaning into mine as if she were finally letting go.
But then, the air shifted.
Elena gasped and shoved me back with a force that surprised me. I stumbled, my boots scuffing the carpet.
"No!" she shouted. She was shaking now, her eyes wide and wet with tears. "You don't get to do that, Liam!"
"Elena—"
"You’re a playboy!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "That’s all you are. You think you can just kiss me and everything becomes okay? You think because you stood up to Chloe for five minutes, I’m supposed to trust you?"
"I'm trying to change," I said, reaching for her, but she stepped away, her cane clicking sharply against the floor.
"I don't trust you," she said, and the words hurt more than any punch I’d ever taken on the ice. "I can't trust you. You’re a Vance. You’re used to getting whatever you want, and right now, you want the 'challenge' of the scholarship girl. But what happens tomorrow? What happens when your father says 'jump' and you ask 'how high'?"
"That’s not what this is," I argued.
"That’s exactly what this is!" she cried. "You’re playing a game, Liam. But this is my life. My scholarship. My mother’s home. I am not a toy for you to play with when you're bored of your perfect life."
She grabbed her bag, her movements frantic. She wouldn't even look at me.
"Wait, the drive—" I started, pointing to the table.
"Keep it," she said, not stopping. "Do whatever you want with it. Turn it in, hide it, I don't care. Just stay away from me. I mean it."
She limped toward the door, her head held high even as a sob escaped her lips. I stood there in the middle of the library, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. I had the evidence. I had the win. But as I watched her disappear through the doors, I realized I had never felt more like a loser.
I slumped into a chair and put my head in my hands.
My phone buzzed on the table. I ignored it at first, but it kept going. Finally, I picked it up. It was a message from Maya.
Maya: Elena just ran past me in tears. What did you do, Vance?
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Ten minutes later, the library doors opened again. I expected it to be Elena coming back to yell at me more. Instead, it was Maya. She walked straight up to me and slammed a notebook onto the table.
"She’s a mess," Maya said, her eyes flashing with anger. "She finally thought you were different, and you had to go and prove her right, didn't you?"
"I was trying to help," I muttered.
"Help? By kissing her in a corner when she’s at her most vulnerable?" Maya shook her head. "Listen, Liam. I’m her friend now. And if you break her heart again, I don't care who your father is—I will find a way to make sure you never play hockey again. Do you understand?"
I looked at Maya. She was small, but she was fierce. Elena actually had someone in her corner who wasn't paid to be there.
"I understand," I said.
"Good," Maya said, her tone softening just a little. "She likes you, Liam. That’s the problem. She’s terrified of how much she likes you because she knows how this story usually ends. If you want her to trust you, stop acting like a King and start acting like a man."
She turned and left, leaving me alone with the silver drive and the ghosts of the library.
I stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the school parking lot. I saw Elena and Maya walking toward the bus stop together. Elena was limping, but she was leaning on Maya’s arm.
I took the flash drive and tucked it into my pocket. Maya was right. I had to stop talking and start acting.