Page 107 of The Season
“Who says she has to choose?” Seth retorts, folding his arms over his chest, no trace of his usual overly friendly Canadian smile.
I blink up at him. Did Tom manage to get a hit in on him that I missed somehow?
“I’m sorry—what?” I ask, trying to keep my voice relatively polite, since I did just see Seth beat the crap out of someone a few hours ago.
Seth’s flush spreads down his neck, to the tips of his ears, but he keeps his eyes locked on mine. “If she likes us, I mean. Who says she has to choose?”
“Umm…” I trail off, not quite sure how to reply to that. Of course she’d have to choose. That’s the whole point. Instead, I say: “Who says she even likes you?”
This time, it’s Antoine who answers, a smirk curving his full lips. “Oh, she likes me.” He pauses exchanging a meaningful look with Liam. “And Liam.”
I stare between the pair of them, my eyes dropping to their joined hands.
Honestly, I feel like my head is going to explode. I’ve just spent the past couple of days processing the fact that Liam and Antoine have something going on. And like, sure, Liam never bothered to tell me he was into guys, and acted like he literally hated Antoine until a few days ago—up until the point I walked in on Antoine giving Liam a blow job. But that’s cool. Not like Liam and me are best friends or anything.
And now they’re both interested in Lily?
For some reason, Tom’s ugly words choose that moment to echo through my thoughts, making my stomach churn.It’s not like she isn’t fucking the rest of you guys anyway.
“Why do you even care?” Liam asks, gray eyes narrowing to slits as he glares down at me. “It’s not like you’re into her. You made that pretty fucking clear.”
His words have my head snapping back, teeth clenching as if I’ve been hit.
Not into her?Not into her?Is that what he thinks?
I think about Lily’s smile, her laughter mingling with my own as we flew through fresh powder.
I think about the way she looked at me when we first met—when I made the mistake of checking her out—like she wanted to reach between us and rip my balls off.
I think about how her hand felt when she gripped my arm so she wouldn’t slip down the stairs in her stupid trainers, and the way my heart lurched painfully at that simple touch, like it knew even then that it belonged to her.
And when she kissed me, tasting of sugar and whiskey and her, I’d never been more terrified in my life. Like I’d been skiing the whole time toward the edge of a cliff drop without realizing it—the sort of drop that could break every bone in my body if I didn’t land it right.
But if I landed it… It would be the most spectacular thing I’d ever done.
“Of course I’m into her, you dick,” I say with a scowl. I pull my knees to my chest, accidentally knocking Matty’s shoulder with my foot in the process, startling a sleepy grunt out of him. “How the fuck could I not be?”
Liam’s eyes widen, his lips parting slightly at my outburst, and I feel my cheeks heat. “Not like we should be arguing about this anyway,” I add, with a twinge of embarrassment. It’s a somewhat unfamiliar emotion, and I can’t say I particularly like it. “Since Lily is currently passed out.”
“Hmm not.”
Lily’s voice has me jolting in surprise, and I turn to look at her with a mixture of relief and horror.
Dark lashes flutter, hazel eyes roving blearily before landing on me with a hazy sort of focus that has my heart thundering behind my ribs.
“Hey.” She gives a little smile, her face half pressed against the pillow. Liam’s pillow, I realize with annoyance. “I’m… I’m into you too.”
She huffs out a laugh, that throaty, lilting laugh that has heat rushing inappropriately down my spine. “I… um… I like all you guys, actually. A lot.” Her words come in a little rasping whisper, not quite slurred, but slow, like dripping honey, and her eyelids flutter shut again. “So you don’t need to argue about it anymore, ’kay?”
She rubs the side of her face against the pillow with catlike contentedness, a small smile curving her parched lips. One of the hands tucked under her chin slips out, her arm slinking down the edge of Liam’s mattress, fingertips grasping for Matty.
“Oh good. You’re still here,” she sighs when her hand brushes against his shoulder. Matty lets out a sharp intake of breath in response, then reaches up to cover her hand with his own.
“Always,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. “Always.”
I stare down at her, at her long, sun-bronzed arm and the dark waves spilled out over the pillow, at Matty’s pale hand against her golden skin.
“I’m going to get you some water,” I say abruptly, rising to stand so quickly my head spins. Or maybe it was already spinning. “I’ll be right back.”
