Sure Bet (Out of Left Field #1)

26. Brooke

Chapter 26

Brooke

L iam entered the living room at exactly midnight. He’d changed into dry clothes, a pair of fitted joggers and a T-shirt. He feathered a hand through his damp hair, sweeping it back and out of his face. With a shy smile, he handed me an envelope. “Happy birthday, Brooke.”

“It’s still your birthday. One more minute.” I glanced at the thick cardstock. “I have to give you your gift first.”

He shook his head, jutting his chin toward the paper. “You first.” His eyes softened. “Please. You deserve to come first.”

Liam always ensured I came first, but the tenderness of his demeanor had me uninterested in jokes. My heart pounded as I opened it, excitement ringing through my ears that he’d done something for me. It didn’t matter if it was cash in the envelope or a gift card—he’d thought of me, and that was all I ever wanted from him.

Scratching the back of his head, he cleared his throat. “It’s not?—”

My eyes skimmed the paper, my hand flying to my mouth as I read it. “It’s perfect,” I whispered.

“It’s not legally binding, but…” he trailed off, and I continued staring at it.

In bold, blocked ink, Liam’s familiar scratchy penmanship scrolled over the torn-out piece of notebook paper.

Decree of Honorable Acknowledgment

I, Liam Aaron Porter, do hereby acknowledge and solemnly declare the following:

Whereas, a bet was made in good faith between myself and Brooke Marie Elwood regarding a matter of mutual interest;

Whereas, it has been determined by the terms agreed upon that I, Liam Aaron Porter, have not emerged as the victor in said bet;

Whereas, in accordance with the stipulations set forth, it is hereby acknowledged that I am duty-bound to fulfill the terms of the bet;

Therefore, let it be known to all present and future witnesses that I, Liam Aaron Porter, do hereby affirm and accept the consequences of my loss. I, Liam Aaron Porter, proved myself wildly crazy about Brooke Marie Elwood. As a result, I willingly and without reservation concede defeat and bestow upon Brooke Marie Elwood the deciding fate in accordance with the terms of our wager. She is, was, and shall henceforth be confirmed as right in matters of disagreement. Furthermore, I, Liam Aaron Porter, acknowledge my foolishness and stupidity and wish to confirm that it was I, Liam Aaron Porter, who desperately wanted to kiss Brooke Marie Elwood in the closet ten years prior.

This decree is issued with full understanding and acceptance of its implications, and I pledge to honor the terms herein stated without hesitation or reluctance.

Signed,

Liam Aaron Porter

“Liam Aaron Porter!” I shook my head, clutching the decree to my chest. “You declared in writing that you lost the bet?” Tears welled in my eyes; the gesture so goddamn sweet. “But you didn’t. I lost.”

“No, I did. I lost that night when I tried to make you say you wanted to kiss me instead of telling you how much I wanted you to.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not exciting and you deserve?—”

My mouth was on his, cutting off whatever incorrect thing he was about to utter next. His hands were around my waist, pulling me closer. My fingers slipped into his hair, anchoring myself as I got lost in a slow, deep kiss. His palms slid lower, skimming up my thighs.

He broke first, his chest heaving as his forehead rested on my shoulder. “That’s not all of it,” he panted. “What I wanted to say earlier. That’s not all of it.”

Liam released me and reached into his pocket, holding up his phone a moment later. Pulled up was a social media post—a screenshot of the decree with a message beneath it wishing me a happy birthday and an apology for embarrassing me when we were fifteen.

He tagged his jeering high school buddies, Miller and Dylan.

It was posted less than five minutes ago and already had dozens of likes. I stared at the screen. “Holy shit,” I whispered with a grin. My gaze flickered to his. “Talk about accountability.”

Liam’s eyes met mine, that stunning cerulean blue I could drown in. “I should have done it sooner. I’m sorry, Brooke. I wanted to kiss you so desperately in that closet, and I hated that I wasn’t someone you wanted to kiss. That reflected my feelings about myself, not my feelings for you.” He kissed my temple, hovering for a moment, and pulled me into a tight hug.

I held him and curved my hands around his shoulders, rubbing softly over them. “I’m sorry, Liam. It was my fault. I attacked you that night because I thought I was a joke, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.” I blew out a breath, squeezing harder before releasing him. “Let me give you your gift.”

Taking his hand, I walked him to the closet. We stared at the door—an ordinary oak wood. It’d been painted white for as long as I could remember. Cracks split the worn paint, and it needed sanding and refinishing. But part of me never wanted it to change because this was, oddly, one of the most important pieces of my personal history.

“Open it.”

Liam glanced at me, but did as I instructed. He laughed as soon as the door swung open.

I’d cleared out the jackets and shoes, strung some fairy lights, and lit a stick of incense to hide the musty odor of the dated interior. It was still cozy, but I doubted either of us minded.

“I wanted to kiss you that night, and you’re right. I was going to say it before we were interrupted,” I admitted, gently pushing him inside and closing the door behind us. His mouth hung open as he blinked. Never, not once in our history, had I shocked Liam into silence.

“I was embarrassed because I thought you were teasing and rejecting me, but even then, I still wanted to kiss you.” Our chests pressed together, my back to the door in a familiar stance. My hands slid along his biceps as I stared into his eyes. “I will always want to kiss you.”

Our mouths were a whisper apart, and he nudged his nose with mine. “Then kiss me.”

His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me so close I could hardly inhale. It didn’t matter because his mouth was there, breathing life into me. I moaned, arching into him and running my palms over his back. Liam kissed me with relentless strokes of his tongue, and I pressed forward, meeting him halfway as I licked and nibbled at him.

Breaking away, I rested my cheek against his chest, my ear over his heart to catch the quickened beat. It was my favorite melody, grounding and steadying when my own felt wild and uncontained.

“I was supposed to tell you at midnight,” I said quietly, nestling into his shirt. “That was your gift.”

His hands gripped my shoulders, and he pulled back to get a look at me. “What?”

“We got each other the same gift. How embarrassing.” I winced, causing Liam to drop his head and laugh softly. “Acknowledging defeat.”

He was so handsome in the glow of the lights. Soft shadows lined his face, making the sharp ridges of his cheekbones more defined with the contour of darkness. Even if I squinted my eyes and allowed my vision to blur, he looked so different from ten years ago. Both in the masculinity of his maturity and in the unguarded affection in his smile.

It was everything.

“But…” My fingers walked up the front of his shirt, resting over his lips. “I kissed you two days before my official birthday.”

He kissed the pads of my fingers. “You didn’t say you wanted to kiss me. So, I call it. Technically, you still win.” Nipping at me, he grinned. “I know you love your technicalities.”

“Well, allow me to point out two more, then.” I traced his jawline, the stubble rubbing roughly. “First, that means it’s up to me whether you stay because you declared me the victor.”

He hummed, one hand sliding into my hair and fisting it with a rough tug. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And you’ll stay. Please stay.” I trailed my hand down his torso, palming him over his pants.

Hard, he thrust against my touch, rumbling a low groan of approval. “I want to stay.”

His grip tightened, causing my head to fall back. He dove into my neck, licking a trail along the column of it as I panted. Pinned between Liam’s strong body and the door, I stroked him and smiled. I had one more technicality.

“Second, you’re wrong. The bet didn’t explicitly state I had to say I wanted to kiss you, just that I would kiss you.”

“Well, I suppose that means I did win.” I didn’t miss the gleam in his eyes. “Which means…”

“It means I owe you an apology and should beg for your forgiveness.”

He stilled, his hand releasing my hair as he smacked both palms against the door. A devilish smile spread over his lips. “Begging begins on the knees.”

I slowly lowered to the floor, my eyes on his. “I know.”