Page 47 of The Season
Tom: If you see Liam, remind him to get some bourbon. We’re almost out.
Eddie: *Blurry image of Eddie frowning, holding up a nearly empty bottle of liquor.
Tom: Can you tell Liam? He’s not answering his phone.
“I think Antoine wants to catch a ride with us,” I say.
“Huh.” Liam doesn’t look at me.
“Shoot, I didn’t see that,” Matty says, dropping his gloves and his board before pulling his own phone out with fumbling fingers.
“It’s fine.” I quickly tap out a response on the thread, letting Antoine know where to meet us, then pocket my phone. “There’s a lot of chat on there.”
I give a nervous laugh, my stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of drinking with Tom.
Eddie, I’m less worried about, even though things have been strange between us since the day skiing backcountry. He’d been so friendly, almost flirty that day, but I’ve been barely able to get two words out of him since then. Last night, when I sat down between him and Liam to have dinner, he’d shoved his plate in Matty’s direction and left the table, muttering something about being tired, even though it was only seven o’clock.
Tom though… Tom is a creep even when he’s sober. I doubt drunk-Tom is going to be an improvement.
“Thanks for waiting for me.” Antoine’s voice snaps me from my thoughts, and I turn to give him a smile.
He casts Liam a nervous glance, his eyes dropping momentarily before lifting back to mine. “Did you pass?”
I nod, my smile widening.
Antoine gives me a soft smile in return, easily wrapping one arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a side hug. “That’s excellent,” he murmurs, his chin bumping against the top of my helmet. I’d been in such a hurry to tell Matty and Liam my news, I hadn’t even stopped to take it off. “So proud of you.”
Something warm flutters in my chest at his words, and I hug him back, my bare fingertips skating across the damp cold of his ski jacket as I lean into him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath.
Unlike Matty’s awkward embrace earlier, touching Antoine is comfortable, easy. Probably because we’ve been sitting and reading together each night after dinner—me, him, and Seth. And just like the first night he read to us, I usually end up sandwiched between him and Seth, with Seth massaging my aching calves while I lean against Antoine, or Antoine playing with my hair while Seth rubs my back.
Maybe it’s comfortable because I know it doesn’t mean anything more than friendship with both of them.
“When you two are done cuddling, we need to get to the liquor store.” Liam’s tone is sharp with impatience, and he taps his gloved hands against his ski pants. “It shuts in fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I shoot Liam an apologetic grimace, but he’s striding away from me, heading to where my car sits, one of the last cars in the parking lot.
Matty is trudging after him, his snowboard dragging behind him on the ice, his shoulders slumped.
“Congratulations to you too, Matty,” Antoine calls to his retreating back.
“Thanks, man.”
Matty doesn’t turn around, and Antoine lets out a discontented sigh. “I think he’s annoyed with me,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear him.
“Why?” I ask, blinking up at him with concern. Antoine is our least abrasive roommate. He pretty much keeps to himself, hardly talks to anyone except for me and Seth. And Matty is so calm, so even-keeled. I can’t imagine the two of them disagreeing about anything.
Antoine stares at me for a long moment, lips pulling into a frown, emerald eyes narrowing slightly. "You really don’t know?”
A sinking feeling of dread has my stomach tightening and I swallow. “You think he’s into me?”
I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but it’s another thing entirely having them confirmed by someone else. I don’t want Matty to like me, not like that. Not when I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reciprocate those feelings.
Not when I’ll most likely hurt him, like I’ve hurt all the other guys I’ve led on.
Antoine lifts one brow in silent answer.
“And what… he’s jealous of you?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
