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We came to an uneasy truce over the course of senior year. Matt was right—I wasn’t welcoming toward her. But I have a very difficult time believing he would have made an Alleghany guy joining his football team feel at ease. He listed me icing Maggie out as a reason I’m not to be treated nicely. If you ask me, it’s a brand of loyalty. I guess it only matters if I were loyal to his side.
There’s no obvious indicator of where the restrooms are as I walk into the club’s building. I’m certainly not going to ask anyone from Glenmont for directions.
After wandering around for a few minutes, I find the distinctive stick figure I’m looking for.
The bathroom is empty. I quickly pee and wash my hands. My appearance isn’t quite as bedraggled as I thought. I finger-comb my damp hair and then open the door that leads back into the hallway.
I’m startled—when I see Liam standing just outside the door. Arms crossed, wearing an annoyed expression.
“Hey…”
“Anyone else in there?” He glances past me, into the bathroom.
“Uh, no—”
Liam steps forward, forcing me to take one back.
The door shuts behind him, leaving us in here, alone.
I open my mouth. “What are you—”
“Put some fucking clothes on.”
I raise both eyebrows, registering his serious expression and deadly tone. “No.”
“I’m not kidding, Natalie.”
“You’re not the boss of me, either. I’ll wear—or not wear—whatever the hell I want. I’ll walk around naked if I feel like it.”
Liam exhales a long, annoyed huff. He looks past my shoulder, his eyes swirling with hidden, green secrets. “I’m going to lose it,” he confesses. “If I hear one more guy make a comment about your tits or your ass, I’m going to lose it. And I know I shouldn’t care. I know it shouldn’t matter to me. But I do, and it does. So will youpleaseput some fucking clothes on?”
“I’m not yours, Liam.”
“I know.” That’s his response. But he says it like he’s really sayingyes, you are.
“I’ll consider it,” I tell him.
“Fine.”
“Your sister hates me.”
He shrugs. “So? She knew how I felt about Cole.”
“Is that what this is?” I ask, gesturing between us. “Some sort of twisted revenge fantasy?”
“No. That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
He doesn’t answer. He leans down and connects our lips, placing a burning, bruising kiss on my mouth. I kiss him back to the jagged rhythm of my heartbeat.
This is bad, I think.
Liam pulls back and looks at me.
I wonder if he’s thinking the same things I am. If he’s also mentally retracing all the steps that led us here, trying to figure out when we became two people who get jealous. Who share kisses that feel like stealing breath and swallowing butterflies.
“We should stop doing this,” I whisper.
