Page 9 of The Season
He widens his eyes in surprise, then practically slumps in relief. “Wow. That’s amazing. Uh… the guys kinda wanted me to get someone with a car, so this is actually perfect.”
I imagine a scoreboard in my mind.One point for Lily Dean.
“Well, let me introduce you to the guys.” Matty rubs his hands on his snowboard pants, flashes me a nervous smile, then climbs awkwardly out of the car.
As I follow him up the icy concrete steps, I’m struck by how tall Matty is. Built, too. It wasn’t so obvious on the mountain, where everyone is dressed in bulky snowboard gear, or when he was sitting in the passenger seat of my car, but Matty is one big guy.
For a brief moment, uncertainty flits through me. My friends are always telling me I’m too trusting, too naïve. That I’m going to get myself into trouble one of these days. I hesitate, my gloved hand gripping the ice-coated metal rail, watching as Matty takes the steps two at a time.
I only just met Matty this morning, and I have no idea who these other guys are. Matty seems like an okay guy, but I thought the same about Steve. Clearly, I’m not the best judge of character.
“Lily?” Matty pauses, turning to give me a confused look from the top of the stairs. “You okay?”
“Yah. Sorry.” I flash an apologetic smile, then jog the rest of the stairs to catch up. “I was just checking my phone.”
He doesn’t look entirely convinced by the lie, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pulls out a key and points to the first condo to the left of the stairs. “Well. This is it.” He chuckles, then adds: “Home sweet home.”
The first thing that hits me when we step inside is the smell. A mixture of stale beer and sweat mixed with food. Pizza, maybe?
“Guys,” Matty calls out, “this is the chick I told you about.” He steps aside, sweeping one arm in my direction by way of introduction. “She’s interested in moving in. And she’s got a car.”
I plaster on a friendly smile as I take in my surroundings. An open-plan kitchen, dining and living room. Sparse fixtures in varying shades of brown and beige. Surfaces littered with unwashed dishes and empty beer cans. Dim lighting.
A boy stands at the kitchen counter, an open pizza box in front of him. He’s halfway through shoveling a slice of pizza in his mouth, and he blinks in surprise at the sight of me before trying to give me a wide grin, his smooth cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
Some of my earlier unease fades at the sight of him. This kid, he can’t be more than seventeen. If someone’s little brother lives here, these must be good people.
“Lily, this is Eddie. We call him the baby-faced assassin. He teaches skiing at the mountain.”
Oh. Okay then. So maybe not someone’s little brother.
Eddie wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and scowls at Matty, his expression instantly transforming from cherubic to something almost feral. “Nobody fucking calls me that except you, Captain America.”
His scowl quickly fades when he looks back to me, accent thickening as he adds: “S’nice to meet you, Lily.”
“And this is Seth.” Matty ignores Eddie’s outburst, tilting his chin to where a tall, sandy-haired guy leans against a doorframe, a dim, narrow hallway behind him. “I… uh, I don’t actually know what he does,” Matty adds sheepishly, making me wonder just how recently he moved in.
“I work at the rental shop,” Seth drawls, a slow smile curving his lips. Despite his imposing build, his eyes are kind, tipping up at the corners. “I’m hoping to get my ski instructor’s cert next winter though.”
“And the antisocial bookworm in the corner there is Ant.”
My gaze flits to the far corner of the living room, to where a dark-haired, dark-skinned guy is curled up on a worn sofa, a paperback dangling from his fingertips as he frowns at Matty.
“It’s Antoine,” he says loftily, turning back to his book. The cover has a picture of two shirtless guys on it, but I can’t quite make out the title. “A fact you well know, Matthias Webber.”
I can’t quite place his accent, but it sounds nice, perfectly matching his cable-knit sweater and chinos—and completely at odds with his surroundings.
Emerald-green eyes lift momentarily from his page, landing on me with a searing intensity that almost has me stepping back. “It’s lovely to meet you, Lily. If you do decide to stay with these heathens, be warned: none of them knows how to cook, clean or do any of the usual things that grown adults should be capable of on their own. They do like to drink though.”
And with that ominous proclamation, he lifts his book, obscuring his face from view once more.
Matty gives a tittering laugh, bending to wipe his palms on his thighs before sweeping one arm toward the dimly lit hallway. “Ready for the grand tour?”
Chapter3
Antoine
“Harder,” Charles cried out, his eyes rolling back in his head, his mouth lolling open. “Oh, gods above…”
