At Arlington, I haven’t changed my behavior. I’m not in the team’s spotlight as much; I’m nowhere near as integral to the success. But practices and meetings and travel to away games didn’t leave time for much else, and it was easy to leave partying and girls off my list of priorities.
That’s why it’s fucking ironic I’m having a hard time keeping Natalie out of my head. It’s never been an issue for me before, and she—of all people—should be easy to banish.
That’s why it’s incredibly annoying that my blood is heating with desire when I think of last night, not hate. It could have gone a lot further than it did. I was a more than willing participant.
And so was she.
It’s a comfort and a curse.
Comforting our attraction isn’t one-sided, which is somewhat reassuring. She should be loyal to Alleghany, not sticking her tongue in a Glenmont guy’s mouth. There’s a thrill to the forbidden, which we were both high on.
And it’s a curse because knowing she was willing makes it more difficult to rule out the possibility of it happening again.
By the time I turn around and start running back toward Parker’s place, most of the haze has burned away. There are a few other people appearing on the beach, with dogs or young children trailing behind. A golden retriever barks as I approach.
“Sorry!” his owner, a girl who looks to be my age, calls. Based on the brief glimpse I catch of her, she’s cute.
I consider stopping to pet the dog. Striking up a conversation. But there’s no immediate flare of emotion at the prospect. I feel apathetic, the way I usually do around girls.
So I flash her a smile and a quickno worrieswave and then continue running. It takes me another few minutes to reach the steps that lead up to the back deck. My gaze doesn’t linger on the couch or the railing.
I’m excellent at repressing what I don’t want to think about. That and football are why I’m closer with our dad than Maeve. She holds the past against him, and I’ve always found it easier not to. But it has never extended to the Alleghany rivalry. Maybe some sick part of me enjoys torturing myself about it. And it’s always been my fuel on the field. If it extinguishes, I’m not sure what sort of player I’ll be.
My steps stutter as I enter the kitchen. Everyone else is awake. Parker is standing at the stove, frying eggs. Tessa is rummaging through the fridge. And…Natalie is sitting in the breakfast nook, scrolling through something on her phone.
“Morning,” I say, heading for the cabinet that holds the glasses.
“Liam!” Parker greets. “Figured you were out running.”
I nod as I fill a glass with water from the tap. “More scenic than my usual route.”
Tessa shuts the fridge and smiles at me. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Um, yeah. Great,” I say. Lie, rather. And I certainly don’t risk a glance at the one person in here who could testify to the lack of truth.
“You didn’t hear the thunderstorm? The lightning?”
I tense at the sound of her voice. Chug most of the water in the glass before meeting the challenging stare that’s aimed my way. “There was a storm last night?”
Parker snorts. “Come on, man. I had three beers last night and I couldn’t sleep through it.”
I shrug, more interested in why Natalie is bringing it up than answering Parker. I figured we’d be on the same page today about pretending last night never happened. It’s startling—and a little thrilling—that she’s mentioning the storm.
“Well, jealous you slept through it,” Parker says, oblivious to the staring contest Natalie and I are having. “Want an egg?”
I look away. Lose.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
I drain the rest of my water as I watch him crack a couple more shells and start frying them.
“Coffee?” Tessa asks, playing the part of host right alongside Parker.
“Sure. Thanks.”
She hands me the pot and a mug, lingering beside me as I pour like she’s waiting for me to say something else. My mind is blank. Blank of things to say, at least. I’m still trying to read the subtext in Natalie’s question.
You didn’t hear the thunderstorm? The lightning?is on repeat in my head. Is she actually referring to the summer storm—or the energy between us? It’s dimmed in the daylight, but I can still feel it.