Page 49 of The Season
“I… uh, I don’t drink…” Matty dutifully reminds us from where he’s folded into the front seat, his knees pressed against the glovebox, his head brushing the roof of the car.
It’s such a pointless reminder that I roll my eyes and, for a brief moment, a smile ghosts Liam’s lips. I could almost imagine that we’re sharing a secret joke, laughing at teetotaler Matty and his fear of coffee and alcohol and even caffeinated soda. And then Liam’s scowl deepens, becoming more of a sneer as he throws the door open, leaving a gust of icy wind in his wake.
“I’m fine with bourbon too, I guess,” Lily mutters from the driver’s seat, watching Liam stalk toward the liquor store. She turns to Matty, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “Do you know what he’s so upset about?”
Matty shakes his head, shifting awkwardly and tugging at his seatbelt in an effort to face her, to give her all his attention, like he always does. Even when I can tell it’s tearing him up to look at her—like when she’s sprawled out on the couch between Seth and me—he can’t ignore her.
Given my growing feelings for Lily, that should make me jealous. Instead, I just feel sorry for him.
“No idea,” he says, giving her a lopsided smile. It’s his version of a forced smile, like only half his face will comply with happiness. “Maybe he’s just worried about the liquor store closing in five minutes.”
“So ridiculous,” Lily sighs, throwing her head back against the headrest. “You know, pretty much everywhere else you can just buy wine and liquor at the supermarket, right? And on a Sunday, too.”
Matty chuckles. “Oh, yah, I know. I grew up in Idaho, remember, and even Idaho is more liberal when it comes to that sort of thing.”
Liberal. I could almost laugh.
Back home, I’ve seen kids as young as ten trotting down to thetabacto pick up a bottle of wine for their parents. I’m pretty sure my own parents were pouring a glass for me at dinner by the time I was fifteen or sixteen.
Now, at the age of twenty, I’m made to feel like some sort of criminal, lurking in the car while someone older buys alcohol for us.
I press my forehead to the cold window, craning to see if I can spot Liam inside the store, then sit back, half-afraid that the storekeeper is going to storm out and refuse to sell to him with us sitting in the car.
“Done.” Liam’s voice startles me, along with the grinding sound of metal on metal as he wrenches the car door shut. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Lily looks at me in the rearview mirror, playfully rolling her eyes at Liam’s tone. I try to offer her a smile in return, but it falls flat.
It’s too late to fix what happened between me and Liam all those years ago. I know that now. Sixteen-year-old me broke his trust, and there’s nothing that twenty-year-old me can do to fix it.
But Lily…
I’m going to have to talk to Lily. To open up with her. To tell her that I’m bi, or pan, or whatever it is. I’m going to have to tell her that I’m attracted to her. That for the past two weeks, while she’s been pressed up against me, or resting her head on my knee, or letting me tangle my fingers in her hair, that I’ve been wanting her.
Andmon dieu,if that isn’t absolutely terrifying.
Chapter15
Lily
“Jesus fucking Christ, are we running a nightclub now?”
Matty visibly flinches at Liam’s words, though I’m inclined to agree with his assessment. I wrinkle my nose, almost stepping back when the humid air of our condo hits my face, thick with the scent of beer and sugar and human sweat.
At least thirty people are crammed into the tiny open-plan living room and kitchen, a pile of winter coats heaped against the wall, the rows of snow boots practically barricading us from coming inside as they create pools of melted snow on the linoleum. Music thumps from a speaker precariously perched next to the wall of empty beer cans, the bass notes making the cans rattle.
“Bordel,” Antoine mutters. “Who are these people?”
“Lily! Matty!” Eddie’s face emerges from the crowd, his flushed cheeks and wild smile making him look like a caricature of himself. “Congratulations, guys!”
Matty dips his chin, cheeks pinkening with pleasure. “Thanks, bud,” he mutters, the words nearly lost in the hum of the music and people talking.
I give Eddie a wary smile, not quite sure what to make of his suddenly friendly demeanor after nearly a week of silent distance. He doesn’t seem to notice though, and a moment later he’s turning to talk to someone I don’t know, the drink in his hand sloshing dangerously as he moves his hands animatedly, regaling them with some story that has the people closest to him laughing.
Matty casts a nervous glance around the crowd, then bends to whisper in my ear. “Want to hide in my room?” His voice is a low rumble, his breath warm against my neck, making my skin suddenly feel even hotter beneath my thermals. “We could… um, play cards or something.”
I turn to look at him, my face only inches from his own, his blue eye boring into mine with an intensity that has heat coiling low in my belly.
Yesterday, I might have said yes. Might have fooled myself into thinking that he’s not really interested in me, not as more than a friend. Now, Antoine’s comments from earlier are running through my head, and I can’t help but think that nothing could be more dangerous.
