Chapter 148: Fine, I Forgive You.

The night eventually gave way to morning, and Liam had spent enough of it turning things over in his head that Drake barely registered as a blip by the time sleep finally caught him. Whatever Darren’s history with the man actually meant, it wasn’t Liam’s most pressing concern right now. Mrs. Harriet, Arthur, the entire tangled mess sitting behind that conversation at the restaurant — that occupied the space Drake might have otherwise claimed.

He’d set an alarm before finally drifting off, and it went off exactly when it needed to.

Liam woke first, mind already running through the morning’s logistics before his eyes had fully adjusted to the light. Get Mateo to school. Get everyone checked out of the hotel. Handle it cleanly, quietly, no wasted time. He was grateful, at least, that Mateo’s overnight bag had included a change of clothes appropriate for school — one less thing to scramble for.

He showered quickly, calculating that traffic would be minimal this early, and stepped out toward the living room already dressed and ready to move.

Darren was still sprawled across the pull-out, dead to the world, the television still playing quietly in front of him. Liam glanced at the screen before waking him — some YouTube video queued up, a channel called Comicstorian running through an exhaustive breakdown of Spider-Man’s comic origins, clearly something Darren had gone searching for after the movie ended rather than settling for a simple recap.

Liam smirked slightly. Not what he expected. He’d figured Darren’s interest in the film was surface-level, something to pass the time with Mateo rather than genuine investment. Apparently not. Going digging for original source material this deep wasn’t the move of someone faking enthusiasm.

He kicked the edge of the couch. "Up."

Darren’s eyes shot open, blinking blearily, disoriented for a second before focusing on Liam standing over him.

"...What time is it."

"Time to move. Shower. Now."

Darren groaned, sitting up slowly, rubbing at his face before dragging himself upright and shuffling toward the bathroom without further protest.

Liam let Mateo sleep a few extra minutes, using the time to flip through the homework still sitting on the coffee table from the night before. He scanned it out of mild curiosity more than anything, and found himself genuinely impressed — every problem correct, work shown cleanly, no careless mistakes scattered through it. Whatever else was going on in Mateo’s life, his mind clearly worked just fine when given the chance.

Checking the time again, Liam figured it was finally time to wake him up properly. He walked toward the guest room and found the bed empty, sheets pushed back, no sign of him.

The bathroom door sat slightly ajar.

Right. Mateo hadn’t clocked that the suite had more than one bathroom, apparently defaulting to the one attached to the master instead.

The morning moved smoothly from there — quiet, efficient, everyone checked out and loaded into the car with time to spare. Sophia’s texts started coming in steadily the moment they were on the road, each one slightly more clipped than the last, the digital equivalent of someone pacing.

[Sophia: Is he awake?]

[Sophia: Did he shower?]

[Sophia: You’re actually taking him to school right?]

[Sophia: Liam.]

Liam chuckled under his breath, glancing at his phone at a red light. Cute, in its own anxious way, though he understood exactly where it came from. Mateo wasn’t the kind of variable Sophia left to chance, not after everything, and Liam couldn’t fault her for that.

They pulled up outside the school with time to spare, and Darren — despite Mateo’s audible protesting — insisted on walking him all the way to the entrance.

"I don’t need an escort," Mateo muttered.

"Wasn’t asking."

The walk across the lot drew attention almost immediately, students glancing over in a mix of admiration and something closer to unease, clocking Darren’s size, his presence, the sheer don’t-mess-with-this-man energy he carried without even trying. And by extension, some of that attention landed on Mateo too, walking directly beside him.

Darren ruffled Mateo’s hair right at the entrance. "Be good."

That was when he caught sight of them — Cody, Bryce, and their third friend, lingering near the side entrance, freezing the instant they registered who was standing at the front gate. Eye contact broke immediately, and all three of them practically sprinted the rest of the way inside without a backward glance.

Message received. Loud and clear.

Liam leaned out of the car window at that exact moment, and between his own presentation — sharp, put together, the kind of look that turned heads even at this hour — and Darren’s reputation now firmly cemented among the student body, Mateo’s social currency had just taken a considerable jump in a matter of minutes.

Mateo caught the whole thing and grinned, some of the earlier embarrassment fading into something closer to pride.

"See you later," he said, waving before disappearing through the doors.

Darren climbed back into the car, satisfied.

"Alright. I’m heading out from here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Go hit the gym or something, you’ve been slacking." Darren smirked, already reaching for the door handle.

Liam shook his head. "Can’t. Heading to see Sophia."

Darren paused, glancing at him, something knowing in his expression. "Figured as much."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Darren shrugged, stepping out. "Lucky guy."

He shut the door before Liam could respond, and Liam watched him head off down the street, already pulling his own thoughts together for the conversation ahead.

—

Sophia had been calling on and off all morning, anxiety climbing steadily with each unanswered ring, until finally a photo came through from Mateo’s phone — him standing in front of his locker, grinning, a thumbs up aimed at the camera.

The tension in her chest finally eased.

She sat with the photo a moment longer than necessary, something warm settling into place alongside the relief. Liam had actually managed it — gotten him there on time, clean, no drama, no last-minute scramble. She hadn’t fully expected that, if she was honest with herself. Most men who drifted through her life treated responsibility like something to be avoided rather than picked up voluntarily.

She wondered, briefly, whether this was some deliberate strategy on Liam’s part — a way of making himself indispensable, knowing full well how difficult it was for a woman to keep her guard up against a man who showed up, consistently, for the person she cared about most without ever being asked to.

The thought hadn’t fully finished forming before her doorbell rang.

She crossed the apartment and opened the door.

Liam stood there, already smiling.

Sophia’s expression softened the instant she saw him standing there, flowers in hand, that easy, disarming smile already in place before she’d said a single word.

"You’ve got some nerve," she said, though the edge in her voice had already started to crack.

"I do," Liam agreed, holding the bouquet out toward her. "But I brought a peace offering."

She took the flowers, glancing down at them, fighting visibly against the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "This doesn’t fix everything."

"I know. That was kind of the point."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn’t want to pick up right away last night," Liam said, leaning against the doorframe. "Figured a little worry builds character. Keeps things honest between us."

Sophia stared at him, genuinely caught between irritation and disbelief. "You let me panic on purpose?"

"Not panic. Just... a healthy amount of concern. There’s a difference."

"There is not a difference, Liam."

"Trust exercises come in all forms."

She kissed her teeth, shaking her head, clearly unimpressed with the explanation — but the fight had already started leaking out of her posture, and a moment later she reached out and pulled him into a hug anyway, flowers pressed slightly awkwardly between them.

"You’re ridiculous," she muttered into his shoulder.

"I’ve been told."

Liam’s hands settled at her waist as they pulled back slightly, and before she could get another word out, he leaned in and kissed her, soft and unhurried.

"Forgive me?" he murmured against her lips.

Sophia rolled her eyes, though there was no real resistance behind it, and kissed him back properly this time — her answer, apparently, requiring no further words.

They finally broke apart, and she stepped back to let him inside, setting the flowers down on the counter as she went to find a vase.

"So," she said, filling it with water, "how’d it actually go? With Mateo, I mean."

"Good. Really good, actually."

"He sent me like three pictures this morning. Looked happier than I’ve seen him in a while."

Liam leaned against the counter, watching her arrange the flowers. "He had fun. We kept it low-key."

"Low-key," Sophia repeated, raising an eyebrow. "His hair looks completely different in the photo."

"We stopped by a barbershop. Figured a change might do him some good."

"That’s not exactly low-key, Liam."

"Relatively low-key."

She shot him a look, clearly not buying the downplay but not pressing further either, letting the details stay exactly as vague as he’d offered them.

"He seemed lighter," she said instead, quieter now, genuine. "Whatever you three did, I haven’t seen him smile like that in a long time."

"He’s a good kid. Easy to be around."

"He really likes you, you know."

"Feeling’s mutual."

Sophia glanced at him, something unreadable passing behind her eyes before she turned back to the flowers, finishing the arrangement with careful precision.

"Thank you," she said finally. "For actually showing up. For all of it."

"Told you I would."

"You did." She smiled, setting the vase down between them. "Doesn’t mean I’m not still annoyed about last night."

"I have other ways of making up for it."

"Do you now?" Sophia said with a giggle.