Page 55 of The Season
Lily’s eyes widen in outrage, her nostrils flaring as she fixes Eddie with a glare.
A blonde nearby chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. “You always did know how to win over the ladies,” she deadpans. “No surer way into a woman’s knickers than telling them what they can eat or drink.”
“Save it, Tess,” Eddie snarks. “I don’t need some Aussiesheilawomansplaining how to pick up chicks, okay.”
Lily strides over before Tessa can reply, stopping with a lurch in front of Eddie, reaching out to lean on the counter for support.
Eddie pulls out a dented steel flask from his inside jacket pocket, holding it up to Lily accusingly. “You realize you downed half this thing, eh Missy? This is sipping whiskey, not sculling whiskey. Meant forsipping.”
Lily rolls her eyes, her lips curving into a smile. “How was I supposed to know that? It’s not like it came with instructions.” She gives a little laugh, a dismissive wave with one hand, then stumbles forward, her hand gripping the counter to keep upright.
Eddie widens his eyes almost comically. “Instructions? Why the fuck would you need instructions? Have you never had spirits before?”
Eddie unloads soda bags onto the kitchen counter with angrythunks, and I lean around him, unable to resist the urge to keep Lily in my sight at all times.
Lily shakes her head. “No. Not really,” she admits, and I bristle at the flash of vulnerability in her eyes. At the fact that Eddie put it there. I want to push him aside, to wrap her up in my arms. To tell her there is nothing wrong with not knowing how to drink whiskey.
I don’t know how to drink whiskey.
Liam comes to her other side, reaching up and ruffling her hair with one hand. “You’re looking a little wobbly there. Maybe you should sit down.”
“You should have seen her on the walk back,” Eddie continues, glaring at the bottles of soda he’s unloading as if they’ve personally offended him. “Her shoes are completely ridiculous. Absolutely no tread. Actually, that reminds me…”
He spins around, leaving the rest of the canvas bags half-unpacked on the counter and stalks off to the other end of the kitchen, stooping by the front door for a moment to rifle through the pile of snow-sodden boots and shoes. He must find what he’s looking for, because he picks up a familiar pair of worn tennis shoes up with a look of dark triumph.
“These are your shoes, right?” he hollers, his voice projecting across the crowd of people packed into the condo, the shoes held up over his head.
Lily’s brow dips in confusion, but she gives a stilted nod.
Without further warning, Eddie pulls a utility knife from his pocket, flicking the blade out. A frisson of ice runs up my arms, heart rate ratcheting up at the sound, at the flash of steel glinting in the dim light. The people clustered near the door give Eddie a wary look, shuffling away from him.
Oblivious to their reaction, Eddie flips Lily’s shoes over, then forcefully but methodically runs the blade over the soles of her shoes.
“Can someone please explain why Eddie is having a mantrum and cutting up Lily’s shoes?” Tessa asks, coming to stand between Liam and Lily.
Liam chuckles, looking completely unfazed, like Eddie does this sort of thing at parties all the time. Who knows, maybe he does.
“He’s just giving them better tread,” Liam explains. “So they’ll grip on the ice.”
I give an appraising nod and eye Eddie with grudging respect. That’s… that’s actually really smart. I wish I’d thought of doing that.
Lily gives a whimper, and my eyes snap back to where she’s standing, her face pale as she leans against the counter.
“I… I don’t feel so good,” she admits, voice thready.
She looks at me, noticing me for the first time since she came back from the convenience store, and gives a wobbly smile.
“Matty…” My name comes out as a question and a plea, her eyes blinking and unfocused.
“You should go sit down,” Liam suggests again, but Lily doesn’t seem to hear.
She needs to get out of here, I realize. I might not drink, but I’ve seen what it looks like when someone is about to be sick or pass out or both. That moment of panic that flits across their features, the way all color leaches from their skin, the glazed eyes, and panting breaths.
I look around the kitchen, hoping to see Seth nearby. Lily must feel comfortable with him, since she’s cuddled up with him on the couch each night. And as much as the sight of them together has been tearing me up, I know Lily should be with someone she trusts right now.
But Seth’s back is to us, and he’s busy serving people drinks. Busy being the host, smiling, making sure everything is running smoothly.
I frown. He should be looking after Lily.
