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“Try not to sound so disgusted,” I say with a gasp. “I am a catch.”
“No one is saying you’re not. You’re just…not my type.” She places her hand on my arm before yanking it away and taking a sip of her beer. “Besides, I would prefer not to get stabbed in my sleep by my roommate.”
It’s now that I notice Hannah, who’s stopped interacting with Justin despite sitting on his lap, her eyes locked on me and Sage, her expression murderous.
Interesting.
EIGHTEEN
HANNAH
I’ve always liked the cold.
When I was a kid, I always loved coming to Vail, but I really began to fall in love with colder weather when I moved away to college. It’s not to say Tennessee is the tundra, but it’s colder than Georgia.
The day out on the slopes was exactly what I needed to shake myself out of this funk I’ve been in. I’m not typically one to marinate on a bad audition, but given everything else this week, it hit me harder than it typically would.
I was tipsy earlier, but now, hours later, the house dark and empty of guests, I feel myself sober as a judge. Thirsty as hell, but sober nonetheless.
Pulling my wool socks on to combat the cold tile floors, I don’t worry about putting much else on besides my sleep shirt. It’s almost 4:00 AM and I’m not getting dressed to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. The floor creaks beneath my feet, reminding me just how old this house is despite its updated amenities.
The kitchen light causes me to squint as my eyes adjust. Imake my way all the way into the kitchen before I realize I’m not alone, although the light being on already really should have been my first clue that someone was up.
My eyes lock on the expanse of muscular back of the man currently facing away from me, inspecting the contents of the fridge.
Liam.
I gulp, my eyes fixed on the way his muscles contract as he reaches inside the fridge, pulling out all the fixings for a sandwich.
We stopped at the grocery store on our way into town in the hopes that it would keep us sated when going out for food wasn’t an option. I don’t think anyone expected the appetites of the three men currently on this trip. I thought it was a dramatic amount of food for a two-day, one-night trip, but apparently not.
I shake myself out of my trance, pulling my attention back to why I’m in here—water.
“I need a glass,” I say, my voice groggy as I reach past him at the counter where he is now assembling his sandwich. He jumps slightly at the sound of my voice before I come into vision, but I don’t miss the way his eyes linger on the hem of my shirt riding up my thighs.
“The polite thing to do would be to ask me to move.” His voice is raspier than normal, the mixture of sleep and something foreign filling the air.
“Why would I be polite?” I grab a glass from the cabinet and head over to the fridge to fill it to the brim from the water dispenser in the freezer door.
“Good point. You’ve hardly been polite all night, so I can’t imagine why you’d start now.”
Okay, he’s mad. If only I had insight into why.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” His gruff tone, which I’d previously interpreted as tiredness, is now clear: irritation.
“What could I have possibly done today to have your panties lodged so far up your ass?”
He scoffs, ignoring my question as he cuts his sandwich into two triangles before lifting one of the halves to his mouth. I swat it from his hand, the plate clanking against the counter as it lands.
“Don’t be a bitch.”
Oh, fuck no.
“Well, don’t be an asshole and I won’t be a bitch. Seriously, what is your fucking problem?”
I know in almost an instant that I have made a massive mistake. He abandons his plate as he turns toward me. With every step he takes in my direction, I back up until my back is pressed against the counter.
