Chapter Fourteen [Eli]

I ignore him all day at school.

I ignored his texts as well.

Logically, I know he's right and I can't ignore him forever. But I can try. If I can't avoid the worst, I can at least delay it.

Every time I think about what happened at The Lodge yesterday, or the night before at the Ice Arenas, I want to bang my head against the wall until it pierces through. I can't believe I was such an idiot. This isn't me. I'm usually so good at stifling all these stupid impulses. I've had years of practice.

Apparently, not enough.

I sat in James Lowell's car with Owen, Dean and Connor Wong on our way to hockey practice. As we spill out of the car in the parking lot, retrieving bags from inside, a familiar grey Audi pulls into the parking lot. I shove my hockey bag over the school bag on my shoulder a little too aggressively, bumping into Owen on my way to the door. I can hear car doors opening behind me, as Liam and his friends undoubtedly step out of Mackenzie Pruitt's SUV.

I practically run into the Arenas without looking back. Owen and Dean jog to catch up with me, probably noting how weird it was for me to rush away like that, but asking no questions. They might just assume I'm running away from Natalie. Who, if I'm honest, I'm never too comfortable to see.

Once we're in the locker room, that's my safe zone. I get ready with the guys and, for a couple of sweet hours during practice, the epic fuck-up from last Tuesday leaves my thoughts.

Until we're getting ready to leave.

The hockey team is supposed to go hang out at The Lodge today. Usually, I don't appreciate how long they take, since James is supposed to be my ride and I shouldn't be late to work. But today it gives me a crooked sense of relief. Which is stupid, because I'm going to be with him at work anyway.

The guys flow into The Lodge as a mass of dissonant banter and laughter, and I part with them to change inside the staff room. Fortunately, Liam isn't there.

I go into the dining room and take a round of drink orders from the guys. Trey Coleman says it's on him, so a few guys order double. One guy even orders three hot chocolates. I turn to go get their drinks and my eyes lock with his.

Liam is standing by the counter, empty-handed and unmoving. He usually doesn't do anything around here unless I tell him what needs to be done.

I suck it up, swallowing down on the painful fist wrapped around my throat, and walk up to the counter.

"Need some help with those orders?" He offers, standing beside me.

"I got it."

"You sure? That's a lot of—"

"Positive."

He doesn't leave. I busy myself with the drink orders, pointedly not looking at him.

"You and I should talk," Liam whispers, stepping a little closer. Too close. Too obvious.

"Not now," I mutter brusquely.

"After work?" He tries again.

"Fine," I spit out just to get him to let it go, leave me be, stand a little farther away from me, let me breathe.

For the rest of our shift, he doesn't try to talk to me again. The hockey team gets their coffees, hot chocolates and teas, and then they leave just in time for dinner time. It's a Thursday, so it's not too busy. But it's busy enough that it's okay Liam and I completely ignore each other.

Dinner passes and closing time rolls in, but that just means it's time to clean up. I'll need to wait for Elliott to be ready to drive me home, so I can be here till well after eleven. Hopefully, Liam doesn't have that much time to wait.

Once we're done tidying up the dining area, Liam's eyes find me in the empty room and I turn to go into the kitchen. One of the cooks is still moving around the balconies, so when Liam follows me inside his shoulders deflate. He's not going to try to talk to me while there's people around. At least, there's that.

I go over to a stool in the corner and take out my phone. I do it a lot, whenever I have to wait for Elliott to drive me home, so it doesn't look strange. Liam, though, looks a little more conspicuous just standing by the kitchen doors without really knowimg what to do with himself.

The cook finishes up what he was doing way too soon and bids us both a quick, impersonal goodbye on his way out. Then we're alone.

I bite down on my lip, feeling the tension tighten around my whole body and stand up reflexively, eyes on the door.

Liam steps in front of the exit — not barring it completely, just inconveniently standing in the way — and arches his eyebrows at me. I purse my lips together, glaring at him.

"You're the weirdest combination of fight and flight instinct, anyone ever tell you that?" He eventually says, keeping his gaze steadily on mine.

"What do you want?"

He only looks taken aback by the harshness in my tone for a second, before he gets his composure back. "That's funny," he muses. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

I look away, hating that I can feel in myself exactly what he said. A simultaneous instinct to run and lash out. Hide and attack.

I force myself to meet his eyes again, scowling. I have nothing, aside from presenting a front of hostility. What would I even do if Liam just decides what happened between us is too priceless to keep quiet about? If that happens, I'm done. But I can't afford to look as vulnerable as I feel right now. So this hallow front is all I have, along with the hope that Liam won't see through it.

Deep-blue eyes take me in, seemingly assessing my stance. I don't know what he sees, but whatever it is, it makes him lift his hands in front of his body as a sign of peace and take a step back, away from me.

"I've never been into the whole good Samaritan thing," he says evenly, "but I don't think I'm the kind of guy to go around spreading rumors about other people either. Just in case that's something you're worried about."

"Aren't you?" I shoot back a little too brusquely.

Liam raises his eyebrows. "I'm a little too familiar with how it feels to have your name on everyone's mouth to do that to someone else."

That makes me relax just enough to regret the harshness in my tone.

Liam keeps his eyes on me. "Whatever happened yesterday doesn't need to happen again, if you're this worked up about a kiss," he says quietly. "We can both go about our lives and forget about it."

Go about our lives, going to the same school, working at the same place and skating in the same Ice Arenas.

Liam shrugs nonchalantly. "It's entirely up to you. Say the word and we'll never mention this again."

"Sounds good to me," I reply a little too fast.

He takes a second before nodding. "Okay."

That gives me some significant relief for the first time since that moment, two nights ago, when I tried to kiss Liam in the rink. I was careless and stupid, and it could've ruined everything. But I was lucky.

Lucky that Liam Astor has apparently finally had enough of scandal.

I run a hand through my hair, which feels strange without the beanie I left in my locker, and start toward the door. Liam lets me pass, taking a few steps into the kitchen as though meaning to give me space.

"It's a shame, though."

That gives me pause. I don't want to look back, but I do. It's unnerving. I was always so sure of my ability to restrain myself and stomp down my own stupid impulses.

But I never had such blatant temptation.

Until Liam Astor came back from one summer in Malibu having decided he was bisexual, the only other gay guy I was aware of ever living in the Brunson-Lake City area was Augustine Cabot, Liam's friend. Who is definitely not my type.

Though Liam Astor is also not my type. At least, he isn't supposed to be.

It was so much easier to label them all as 'straight and untouchable' and focus on hockey. Liam's coming out shouldn't have changed that for me. Even though he's no longer 'straight and untouchable', he is still a spoiled, rich kid from Lake City who doesn't have to worry about maintaining any kind of reputation just to have the chance at being taken seriously.

But the look he's giving me know stirs up some memories of the way he looked at me in the rink, two nights ago. Deep-blue eyes glimmering with a tempting promise I have been trying my hardest not to read too much into.

Liam's lips stretch into a knowing smile, like he's perfectly aware of the storm raging inside my head.

"Yesterday was... interesting," he says.

Interesting. Not good, not fun, but interesting. Because everything is a fucking game — an experience — to this guy. A scandalous summer in Malibu, forced to work an outrageous job at his dad's resort, kissing me — all such interesting experiences.

"I guess I read you all wrong," Liam says before I can turn to leave again.

"What," I ask, cursing myself for enabling this.

"I could swear you were just as into it as I was," he murmurs with an innocent shrug.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Liam smiles. "Cat got your tongue?"

"What do you want?" I speak under my breath. A part of me is terrified Elliott and Scarlett can hear us all the way from the bar area. They can't. But once you train every nerve on your body to be hyperaware of everything you can't do, say or be, you get paranoid.

"I thought we were supposed to never mention it again," I say.

"If you want," he replies.

"So?"

"Do you?"

I gulp.

Liam bites down on his smile and takes a step toward me. "You know... You already slipped once... I already said my lips are sealed... What's the worst that could happen if you slipped again?"

He takes another step closer.

I don't move. I don't even know what I'm doing here anymore. All I can think about is Liam's words.

You already slipped once... What's the worse that could happen to you if you slipped again?

This!, a voice of caution yells inside my head as Liam takes another step.

But this doesn't even feel so bad.

Liam takes one final step, when I don't say anything, standing right in front of me. "I'm not gonna move any closer. Not unless you ask me to."

There's a decisiveness in his tone. A promise I think I can understand.

Before I can stop myself, I glance over my shoulder to the kitchen doors. I can see through the round glass windows that the dining room is completely empty.

Stupid and reckless again, I step forward and lean in to kiss Liam's receptive lips. Because I can't help myself. It's like being on a diet and deciding to have a cheat day. But then you taste sugar for the first time and you just can't not keep eating. Even though you should, because that diet was important, and you wouldn't even normally like this particular candy.

His hands fly to the back of my neck as I grip his hips, prying his mouth open to slide my tongue in. His breath hitches, but he lets me in willingly. Almost like he's waiting to see what I do.

Somehow, despite the blood rushing out of my head, my paranoid ears can still hear movement outside and I pull away, putting a considerable distance between us.

Liam has a sort of dazed, confused look as Elliott comes in. My brother looks between the two for barely a second, before asking me, "You ready to go?"

***

Are you ready to go?

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