Chapter Eighteen WILLOW

I feel like I’m floating on a cloud as I get ready for school. While I eat in the dining hall, semi-listening to Iris and Bronwyn chatter away, me nodding at the appropriate moments, though I’m not paying attention to anything they’re saying.

I’m too caught up in my own thoughts. Memories. Friday night out at the ruins. The things Rhett said to me. The way he touched me. How he looked at my mouth while he told me he wasn’t going to kiss me in front of everyone. His hot gaze lingering on my lips felt like a kiss, though I know that was nothing.

The idea of him kissing me, what it might feel like …

I shiver just thinking about it.

“You okay over there?” Iris snaps her fingers in front of my face, making me blink.

“Rude.” I push her hand away, making her laugh. “I’m fine. Just … tired.”

“Thinking about Rhett?” Iris’s brows shoot up before she shares a knowing glance with Bronwyn.

“Maybe.” I let my gaze wander around the dining hall in search of him but he’s nowhere to be found.

“They’re at practice,” Iris says, because of course she’s figured out what I’m doing. “Preparing for this week’s game.”

“Already?” Bronwyn asks.

“They’re always preparing, meaning, they’re always practicing.” Iris takes a sip of her coffee.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask, curious.

Panic flares in Iris’s eyes for the briefest second before it’s gone, like I never even saw it. “I just … we all know. You barely have to pay attention and you’ll hear everything you never wanted to know about the football team around here.”

Huh. I don’t agree, and I spend the majority of my time with Iris. Unless I’m in a class we don’t share. But whatever. I think she’s secretly fascinated with the football team. Maybe even a specific player, though I’m not quite sure who that could be. For once in her life, she’s keeping everything quiet—meaning, she’s not telling me anything about a crush. Normally this would hurt me, but I think I understand more now.

I don’t want to share too many details about my feelings for Rhett. One, because I’m still trying to process them. Two, I don’t want to get too ahead of myself. This could be nothing.

So why does it feel like it has the potential to be … everything?

Trying to be logical, I shove that thought from my brain. I had the same thoughts floating through my mind when I had a crush on Silas and look how that turned out. Speaking of …

He’s sitting two tables over from ours with Alana practically in his lap, their heads close together, a faint smile on her face when he touches her cheek. I’m kind of grossed out by their obvious display of affection and I start to tear my gaze away from them only for Alana to catch me staring at the last minute.

That satisfied smile on her face when she does catch me? Infuriating.

“I need to go.” I grab my backpack and push my chair away from the table, leaping to my feet.

Iris and Bronwyn tip their heads back, watching me.

“Where are you going?” Iris sounds confused.

“I need to stop by the library before class starts.” I offer them a quick wave, fleeing the dining hall as fast as I can. I make sure I don’t look in Silas and Alana’s direction because that’s the last thing I want, though I assume she’d guess they’re the reason I’m leaving so quickly.

And she’d be sort of right. It’s not that I wish I was in her place—I don’t. After everything that happened between Rhett and I Friday night, I know I’m not interested in Silas.

Maybe I’m a little jealous of how easily affectionate they are together though. Hopefully, I’ll get something like that. Or do I even want something like that?

See? My mind is a confused jumble of emotions. I don’t know what I want and I’m still trying to figure it out.

My stride is brisk as I head for the library, though I really have no purpose going there beyond me telling the girls that’s where I was headed. Class doesn’t start for another ten minutes and the campus is slowly coming to life. Students are wandering along the paths, some of them scurrying toward the dining hall for a lastminute breakfast. There are a few people hanging out in front of the library, most of them clutching coffee cups in their hands as they chat with their friends.

I approach the library on the north side, rounding the building so I can enter through the front doors when I spot a familiar someone. I come to a complete stop, taking him in.

Rhett.

He’s in his uniform, even the jacket but his tie hangs around his neck completely undone, the buttons at the top of his shirt open. His light brown hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower, and he’s just about to shove half a muffin into his mouth when he spots me, doing a double take.

I’m frozen in place, unsure how to react, feeling like a fool when I don’t do anything at all. I don’t even smile. It’s like I can’t move and I watch as he goes ahead and pushes the muffin into his mouth, chewing as he makes his approach.

“Willow Lancaster.” He says my name like we barely know each other, when I was sitting on his lap Friday night and his hands were on me, his mouth at my ear and saying all of those things that leave me a trembling mess just thinking about them.

“Rhett Bennett,” I return because I have no clue what else I should say.

“You’re looking good this morning.” His gaze sweeps over me slowly, lingering on what feels like every part of me, and a hot flush coats my skin at his obvious perusal.

“Um, thank you.” I did nothing special. I am in my uniform, my hair pulled back with a hunter green bow that matches the green in our plaid skirts. My lips are red but otherwise I’m not wearing much makeup except for a light coat of mascara on my lashes. I’ve got my usual Mary Jane shoes on my feet too—this version is made by Miu Miu.

Meaning, I am dressed as my usual self and looking the best that I can considering it’s a Monday, yet he still seems wowed by my appearance. This is definitely more than Silas ever gave me.

“Where are you going?” he asks after a few seconds of me remaining quiet while I absorb his words. His overwhelming presence.

“The library.” I wave a weak hand in the direction of the massive building we’re standing in front of. “What are you doing?”

We didn’t talk over the weekend because I didn’t think it felt right. Besides, I don’t have his number so I don’t know how I could get a hold of him. I suppose I could’ve reached out via the school app we have on our phones because we have access to every teacher on it, as well as students, but I thought that might be weird.

And I didn’t have the courage.

“Just got done with practice. Cramming food in my mouth before class.” He pinches off a piece of muffin and pops it into his mouth. “Still thinking about Friday night.”

I blink at him, shocked he’d admit such a thing. “Excuse me?”

Rhett swallows and grins. “Come on now, Will. Don’t play cool with me.”

“I …” The words disappear on my tongue when he takes a few steps closer to me, his body brushing against mine, his scent filling my head. The boy has no business smelling so delicious.

“You still thinking about it too?” he asks, his gravelly voice settling in my stomach, warming me up.

I shrug one shoulder, sucking in a breath when he grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers. His palm is wide and slightly rough, his fingers long, and a thrill streaks through me at him holding my hand.

This boy makes me weak.

“Come on now, Will. Be real with me.”

“I am still thinking about it.” I lift my head, our gazes locking. His eyes are a beautiful swirl of brown and green and I lose myself in them for a bit. “I feel awkward.”

The words blurt out of me like I have no control over myself.

He smiles, reaching with his other hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t look awkward. Why do you feel that way?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to say the wrong thing.” I swallow hard. “Do the wrong thing.”

His expression softens. “You can’t do anything wrong in my eyes.

I actually snort, which is embarrassing. See? I can do something wrong. “Please. You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. Pretty sure I mean it.” He smiles and the sight of it makes my breath catch. The bell rings and he releases his grip on my hand, taking a step away from me. “See you in English?”

I nod slowly, like I’m in a trance. “Definitely.”

“I’ll let you get to the library then. Bye, Will.”

I watch him walk away, impressed by his long stride and how it eats up the ground. He’s so fast. And tall. And broad.

The realization hits me so hard it nearly takes my breath away. I’ve got it so bad for him.

With a wistful sigh I turn and collide with someone, a loud oof coming from the both of us when our bodies make contact. I take a hurried step back, the apologies already falling from my lips only for me to cut them off when I realize who I’ve run into and see the glare on her face.

Alana. It’s like I can’t shake her.

“Watch where you’re going,” she says, her tone haughty. Like I ran into her on purpose.

“I suppose I could say the same to you,” I return, my voice just as snotty. I’m tired of dealing with her rude looks and obvious laughter at my expense. Or maybe that’s just my insecurities shining through but I don’t know. I’m pretty certain she enjoys rubbing her relationship with Silas in my face.

“Look, I can’t help it if he liked me better,” she says, lifting her chin. “You were gone. What was I supposed to do? Tell Silas no, that he should wait for you to come back? You two danced around each other for months during sophomore year and nothing happened.”

I flinch, hating how she says that, even though it’s the truth. But I’m not about to let her continue talking down to me. I’m over it.

Over her.

“You can do whatever you want. It’s a free country,” I say, my voice remarkably calm.

“You’re right. It is. And we can do whatever we want.” Alana is about to walk away when I speak again, making her pause.

“I don’t care what you two are doing. It’s like you’re sitting close to me and putting on a show so I can’t help but notice. Let me reassure you that it’s completely unnecessary. There’s someone else I’m interested in now.” When she turns to face me, I continue. “And he’s a thousand times better than Silas.”

Okay, that was mean, but I can’t help myself. I got a teeny bit of satisfaction of seeing the irritation cross her face too. That’s what she gets for always trying to put me down. I can do it too, even though I feel like a mean girl.

“God, you’re so annoying. Thinking you’re something special just because you’re a Lancaster,” Alana mutters as she practically runs away.

I watch her go, her words on replay in my head. That’s always been her problem. She’s jealous of me. Did she get with Silas because it makes her feel like she stole him from me? If that’s the case …

That’s really messed up.