Off Script

Chapter 16

Hell, he probably did.

He shut the door behind him and said nothing at first.

Just watched her, that unreadable glint in his eyes.

"You've been busy," he said at last, his voice smooth but carrying an edge she couldn't quite name.

Avery leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, every nerve on high alert.

"You don't exactly strike me as the drop by unannounced type," she replied, her tone even.

Liam's lips curved slightly.

"Normally, I'm not."

He took a slow step toward her desk.

"But I've learned that sometimes... you have to remind people you're not as patient as you appear."

She hated how much her pulse reacted to that.

Hated that she was leaning into every word.

—

Liam's gaze dropped to the orchids on the side table.

Then back to her.

"You got my flowers," he said softly, but there was no question in his voice.

She lifted her chin.

"I did."

"And yet," he continued, his voice dropping, "you didn't call."

Avery's chest tightened—but she refused to look away.

"I've been busy," she said coolly.

Liam's smirk sharpened.

"I can see that," he said, sweeping a slow glance around her sleek office.

Then his eyes pinned her again.

"But you and I both know that's not the reason."

—

Silence crackled between them—sharp, electric.

He wasn't wrong.

And he knew it.

"You think showing up here is going to change anything?" she asked, her voice tight but steady.

Liam's expression darkened slightly—but not with anger.

With certainty.

"No," he said calmly, leaning his hands on her desk, leaning in just enough to invade her space without touching her.

"I think you already know it has."

His words landed like a blow.

Because deep down, she did know.

—

Liam's voice softened, but it only made it more dangerous.

"I told you, Avery," he said, his dark gaze steady. "I wasn't going to chase you."

His next words sent a chill down her spine.

"But I also don't lose."

—

Then he pushed a slim black envelope across her desk—his hand brushing hers, deliberate and slow.

"For you," he said.

She didn't move.

"What is it?"

Liam's smirk returned—subtle, confident, lethal.

"An invitation."

Her pulse roared in her ears.

"To what?"