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Carly was quiet during breakfast,as if she were worried about something.
“Are you ready to put your guacamole recipe to the test at lunchtime?” Liam asked, hoping to pry her out of her funk. “As a native Texan, I think I’ll be the best judge.”
“Mexican food is my Achilles’ heel,” Bran said. “I’m sure I’ll eat so much I’ll need to work out for another two hours.”
“I hope you both like it.” Her forced smile broke his heart. “Martha’s making poblano pepper soup for us to eat with it.”
She’d changed out of her workout clothes into a pair of tight jeans with a loose sweater. Not that it mattered. She would’ve looked cute in a potato sack. Her skin was smooth and radiant. She wore minimal makeup, except for her eyes, which were adorned with a rather thick liner. It was more than he was accustomed to seeing women wear during the day, but probably in style. He’d never paid much attention.
Liam was currently wrestling with his own demons, with the anniversary of the accident waiting to descend on him and crush him, as it did every year. His relationship with Benjamin had gone beyond the normal, surface-level friendship common in high school. They had shared their hopes and dreams. Only Ben knew Liam didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps and become an NFL quarterback. Only Liam knew about Ben’s secret dream of becoming a screenwriter.
Liam was still considering paying a writer to finish the play Ben had started, just to honor his buddy’s memory. But to make it public would require contacting his family, and Liam didn’t have the guts to do it. A better man would’ve made the effort to find Ben’s father and sister. He would’ve met them in person and explained how sorry he was for everything that had happened, including his father’s legal attacks.
I guess I’m not a better man, because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to face them.
Liam fought depression every year around the anniversary of the accident. His favored weapon was to keep himself so busy he didn’t have time to think. That was the main reason he’d jumped at the opportunity to attend this conference in Chicago, counting on Bran to keep him occupied. A workaholic, Bran would’ve had them both tackling company business if Liam had arrived alone. But spending time with Carly would be a more pleasurable distraction if she agreed to it.
“You’re quiet, Carly,” Liam said. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” Carly pushed a piece of pineapple around on her plate. “I’m probably just delirious from getting up at 4:50 a.m.”
Liam didn’t buy her explanation. Even before dawn, when they were first walking toward the gym, she’d been perkier than her current state. Something was definitely bothering her. He could only hope it wasn’t him.
“Doesn’t it feel good to get your blood pumping?” Bran gulped down his healthy shake concoction, which he probably couldn’t have stomached had he seen its greenish-brown color. If Liam had had a private chef like Bran, he’d have something more appetizing for breakfast.
“My blood pumps all night long,” said Carly. “Even when I’m asleep.”
Bran chuckled. “What you need is one of these energy shakes. Should I have Martha mix one up for you?”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll pass.” Carly’s face turned the color of Bran’s shake. “Maybe if I was dying of starvation and there was nothing else to eat.”
“Not me.” The mere thought had Liam’s stomach roiling. “That stuff looks disgusting. I’d much rather die.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Bran grinned and lifted his glass like he was offering a toast.
Carly pushed away from the table. “I think I’ll go rest a bit.”
“Wait up!” Liam said his goodbyes to Bran, who continued to swallow the nauseating shake. He scrambled to follow her, pumping his chair up as fast as he could.
She paused, leaning against the doorway, for him to catch up. “I’m sorry. I’m just not my usual chipper self today.”
“To be honest, I’m a little down myself.” He almost told her why, but thought better of it. He would only make her more depressed. “Would you be interested in walking out to the lake this morning?”
“I’m willing to go, but I may not be very good company.” Her gaze flitted toward Bran, who still hadn’t swallowed the last of his putrid shake. “Shall we head toward our rooms?”
As they started down the hallway, Liam decided his goal would be to cheer her up. Thinking about someone other than himself would keep him from obsessing over the dreadful anniversary.
“Maybe we could play in the snow. Bran’s got a great sledding hill.”
She darted a doubtful look at his chair. “You can use that thing in the snow? And climb hills with it?”
“Bran has a couple of four-wheelers with snow tracks.”
The lip she chewed declared her guardedness. “I can’t say no to you.”
“Is that so?” Liam responded in jest. “What if I asked you to kiss me?”
She gaped at him, her cheeks flushing.
