Page 53 of The Season
My stomach drops at his words, a lump of disappointment catching in my throat. But he doesn’t release his grip on my hand as we carefully make our way down the street to the convenience store, only letting me go when we step inside.
“You should let me carry those,” he grumbles as we leave the shop, frowning when I heft a canvas bag filled with soda bottles over one shoulder.
I shake my head, sidestepping out of his reach when he tries to take it from me. “No way.” I look pointedly at his own bags. “Besides, this will help keep me warm on the way back.”
He snorts in disbelief, then flashes a mischievous grin, bending to settle his own bags on the icy pavement before reaching into the inside of his ski coat. “If you want something to warm you up, why don’t you try this instead?” He thrusts a metal flask into my hands, and I take it without thinking. “It’s just whiskey. Nothing too strong.”
I huff out a laugh, my breath clouding in front of my face. I’m not sure what he usually drinks, but where I come from, whiskey falls squarely within thestrongcategory. Not that I’ve had that much experience drinking—so far, my alcohol consumption has mostly been limited to a beer or a glass of wine with friends.
“Sure. Okay.” I give him a nervous smile, my gloved fingers fumbling with the cap. “Why not?”
I take a tentative sip, nearly gasping at the instant burn in my throat, trying but failing to keep a straight face. My pride bristles at his answering grin, at the flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes, and I give him a pointed look before tipping the flask back and taking another long sip. This time, it doesn’t burn quite as much, so I take a third sip before giving him a smug, vindicated smile.
When I lift the flask for a fourth drink, his eyes widen in alarm. “Okay, okay.” He reaches out, covering my hands with his own before taking the flask back. “I don’t need you legless on my watch. We still have to walk back, and I’m pretty sure the guys would have my balls if I got you wasted.”
I wrinkle my nose at his dramatics. I’m not going to get wasted from a couple mouthfuls of whiskey, though I think it is starting to warm me up. Already, I can feel a comfortable heat pooling in my belly, snaking down my limbs, building on that heady, light feeling from when I was drinking with Tessa in the kitchen earlier.
“Right then,” Eddie chuckles, pocketing his flask and reaching forward to slip the bag from my shoulder before I can stop him. “Let’s get you home.”
Chapter16
Eddie
I must have some sort of inbuilt self-destruct mechanism.
That’s the only way to explain my decision to invite Lily to come with me. Why after a week of successfully avoiding her, I would willingly put myself in a situation where I would be alone with her.
Why I just can’t seem to keep my hands off her.
“Wow.” Lily grips my arm, attempting to steady herself as the combination of alcohol and those ridiculous worn-out trainers turn her into the human equivalent of a baby gazelle. “It got really icy all of a sudden.”
I grimace, waiting until she finds her footing, then shift the bags I’m carrying to my left shoulder so I can wrap my right arm around her. She gives a little whimper, shivering as she attempts to burrow into my side, teeth chattering.
“You’re right, I feel so much warmer now. That whiskey really did help.”
“That’s good,” I say, squeezing her against me, my eyes widening in alarm. How much did she drink? She couldn’t have had more than a couple sips. Was she drunk when we left? She’dseemedsober…
The windows of our condo flicker like distant beacons at the top of the hill, at least fifty ice-coated steps separating us from warmth. I tighten my hold on her, grip the icy metal railing with my free hand, and try to ignore the feel of the canvas bags full of soda digging into my shoulder.
“I had so much fun going backcountry with you the other day,” Lily rambles, her feet slipping on the steps. “Was really nice.”
“Yah. It was.” My answer comes out in a grunt, my quads burning as I haul Lily up the steps alongside me.
“But I feel like you’ve been avoiding me,” she continues. “Was it something I said? Or did?”
Well, shit. I thought I’d been pretty subtle about it.
“I’m sorry if it was,” she continues. “I like you, Eddie. I want us to be friends. You seem like someone I could really be friends with, you know.”
My stomach tightens at her words, an edge of panic icing down my limbs, making my already-frozen fingertips numb. I’m not the sort of guy girls want to be friends with. I’m the sort of guy who is good for a laugh at a party, good for one-night stands, and that’s about it.
“When I first met you, I thought you were a dick, you know that?”
I huff out a mirthless laugh at her honesty. “Well, you weren’t wrong,” I tell her. “Iama bit of a dick.”
She pulls to a stop, feet slipping as she twists in my hold, turning so that she’s facing me. We’re on a wide cement landing, just after the first set of stairs, only about a quarter of the way up what is starting to feel like Mount Everest.
“No. You’re not. Not really.” Her head is tilted back, her eyes glinting amber and green in the lamplight. She’s standing close enough to me that I can see the nearly faded bruises under her eyes, the scattering of freckles across her nose, the hint of white teeth between parted lips. “I think you just pretend to be one.”
