I hadn’t planned to spend the summer with them.
The lake house was supposed to be mine this year—three glorious months of peace, solitude, and no reminders of the chaos back home. But as soon as I opened the creaky front door and heard the faint sound of rock music and smelled grilled steak, my heart dropped.
They were already here.
I froze at the threshold, suitcase still in hand, my heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to name. And then I heard his voice.
“Well, well. Look who finally showed up.”
Liam.
Tall, golden-skinned, and arrogantly grinning from the kitchen island, he leaned one elbow on the counter, sipping a beer like this wasn’t my worst nightmare come true. His black tank top clung to his lean muscle, and that tattoo on his bicep—a Celtic band—looked a little darker si
