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"This still doesn't feel right, Parker. I know you're not telling me everything."
He kisses the top of my head and assures me again, "You don't have anything to worry about."
When I ease out of his arms, I catch a glimpse of Grant and Lily walking along the circular drive toward the library. I'll need to explain to Grant what he might've just witnessed between Parker and me. But ... should I have to? Because we're not really together. The parameters of non-dating are so ... fuzzy.
"So what, your rule doesn't apply to him?" Parker nods toward Grant just as he disappears.
"What do you mean? And how do you know about Grant?"
"You go to school with my brother. You're friends with my cousin. And they used to date."
"Lance and Lily?" I question in abhorrence. "How close is your family?!"
"Lily and Grant!" Parker stresses impatiently. "They dated for like a year. It was serious. Nothing casual like what Nina and I had. And you won't even go on a date with me. But you can be in a relationship with him? Why bother with the bullshit excuse about not touching guys your friends have been with? You just had to tell me you weren't interested."
I'm not going to argue with him about semantics because I did tell him I wasn't interested. I may have wrapped that message within my friendship rule. But ... what the fuck?! "They dated? For a year?"
"Yes." He drives the point in emphatically. "They broke up last winter. But I was always under the impression it wasn't permanent. Like they planned to get back together."
"Who said that?"
"Lily. She asked for some time apart," he informs me.
"Not Grant?" I clarify.
He shakes his head.
"Oh," I breathe, my head reeling. My heart is fluttering in full-blown panic mode. "I gotta go."
I don't hear anything else Parker says as I walk away, following the same path to the library that Lily and Grant took. My phone beeps and I absently remove it from my messenger bag.
Tutor session changed to study room D.
I talk myself out of panicking. Because ... well, what do I have to panic about? He's not mine, I shouldn't care. Except my pounding heart doesn't give a shit. It does care, and needs answers. Now.
When I walk into the library, I search for either Grant or Lily. I find them together in an aisle toward the back of the library. When I come upon them, they appear to be engaged in a serious conversation. So I do what Brendan would do (he's obviously a horrible influence) and I move along the aisle next to them to listen. I know, I'm going to hell. But at least Brendan ... yeah, that doesn't help.
"I didn't know it was serious," Lily says quietly.
"It's ... complicated," Grant explains, his eyes lower in apology. "But I'd like it to be."
"Oh," she breathes. "I just thought you were having fun. I didn't realize ..."
"I thought this was what you wanted?" he asks, concern drawing his brows together.
She smiles warmly. "It is." Her smile transitions into her vibrant one. "I'm happy for you. I was just surprised when I saw you together on Monday."
"That's why I wanted to tell you ... to be honest with you about how I feel about her." His eyes flicker, waiting for her reaction.
"Well, thank you, I appreciate that. And I really am happy for you." Her expression is heartfelt, her smile never wavering. But I can't see her eyes from my vantage, peering through the small space above the books.
Grant studies her for a second, like maybe he sees something that makes him hesitant to believe her. But then he smiles softly. "We're good? You and I? I will always care about you, Lily. Always. I'm here for you whenever you need me."
"So good," she says lightly, still smiling affectionately. Grant pulls her to him and gives her a hug. I get a glimpse of her face as she blinks back the shimmer in her eyes. She is not good. But damn, she's an amazing liar.
I feel like the slimiest scum of the earth after witnessing that. I really am a vile creature right now.
I slink off to the study room early to collect myself and figure out what the hell I'm going to do about all of this. Why didn't he tell me about him and Lily? The more I think about it, the more frustrated I become. By the time I reach the basement, I'm preparing my "what the hell" speech.
