My throat is sore, and my body aches. Too much excitement, too much strain. My leg hurts worse today, too. The temperature has dropped further, necessitating jackets and hats and gloves. More snow is in our near future.
I find Knox, Jacob, and Willow in the living room.
Knox looks at me and shrugs. “We didn’t see anything of use,” he says apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“What should we do?” Willow asks. “Is it too late to call the police?”
Jacob shifts. “I mean… Violet should’ve called them last night.”
I wince.
“My dad’s a police chief. It’s just, the sort of after-the-fact thing is hard, because leads go cold. We’ve already trampled over most of the house, you know?”
“He wore gloves.” I sigh. “But I get what you mean.”
“Next time,” he says helpfully.
Greyson strides out and shakes his head. “Nothing unusual in her room.”
Willow makes the decision for us. “We’re fine,” she says to them. Mainly Knox.
I don’t thinkhewas gallant enough to sleep on the couch… just saying. She’s got the same just-fucked look that I sported last night. Part of me is proud of her. She deserves to have a fling. Some fun. She’s never been that type. She’s always wanted commitment.
And most guys in college are hesitant to, in their words, tie themselves down.
She used to say I got lucky with Jack, but now I’m not so sure luck had anything to do with it. We both got comfortable.
“Okay,” he acquiesces. “But if you need anything, you call the police and us.”
Greyson grunts his agreement.
And then they leave, and Willow locks the door behind them.
I go into my room and flop on the bed. I’m tired and vaguely hungry and in desperate need of another shower, but I just want to sleep for a million years.
Willow joins me. She crawls up next to me and lies on her side, facing me.
“Spill,” she says.
I open my mouth to deny everything, but I end up telling her the whole story. Even the most embarrassing parts about Steele and Greyson in the locker room. I leave out the gritty details, like them both coming on my face…
“Jeez,” Willow whispers. “No wonder you’re tired.”
“Yep,” I agree.
We both doze after that and wake up when her phone goes off. She blindly reaches for it behind her, finally finding it and bringing it in front of her face. She swipes it open, reads something, then tosses it facedown between us.
“Now you’ve got me curious.” I snag it before she can stop me.
I scan the text from Madison—she’s on the dance team, the one who was playing tonsil hockey with Jacob last night. She’s also the best friend of Paris.
Madison
Paris is rioting. She says she’s pissed at Violet because she called dibs on Greyson first. I’m not sure what to do. She’s normally on pretty good terms with Violet, but I guess she feels insulted since Greyson and Paris have been a thing for the last few weeks.
I drop the phone, and Willow cringes.
“I didn’t know,” she says. “I just saw them together that one time, the first night you got back.”