Chapter Thirty-Two RHETT

I don’t even last five minutes. I eventually leave my room—I somehow scored my own while Cal has to share with Rowan—and creep down the hallway, feeling like a spy. A thief. It’s dark, and the cavernous house is mostly quiet. There are actual wings in this place and we’re in our own, no adult supervision to be found.

That’s real fuckin’ dangerous if you ask me. These parents must trust their children implicitly.

I stop at the top of the staircase and check out the massive portrait hanging on the wall. There’s a small brass plaque at the base of the frame that says Augustus Lancaster on it, and I think it’s funny, how his name is on there like we’re in a museum versus their family home.

This is the dude who started it all. The original Lancaster who came to the states and made his fortune. He looks like a giant asshole.

I bet he was one too.

Turning away from the painting, I head down the carpetcovered marble stairs, keeping my steps light though they still echo as I walk. Once I’m on the ground floor I walk around the stairs, finding a nook tucked beneath them with a chair and everything, and I settle in, checking my phone.

I have a text from Brooks.

Brooks: Where the hell are you? I wanted to party tonight and you’re gone.

Me: I’m at the Lancaster estate with your girlfriend.

He told me in strictest confidence last night that he and Iris finally did it. I can tell he’s totally into her, though he’s trying to play it off, which I get. Iris is hard to figure out and she runs so hot and cold. It’s driving him nuts.

Brooks: That is some bullshit. Why am I not there?

Me: Come on out. I’m sure Rowan can arrange it.

Brooks: I can’t just show up there uninvited. Iris will kill me.

She probably would.

Me: Blame it on Row. I’ll talk to him for you if you’d like.

Brooks: I couldn’t.

I wait him out, not responding. He’s going to change his own mind in three, two, one …

Brooks: Talk to Row for me.

Knew it.

Me: I will.

Brooks: Should I text him? Or will I look too eager? You think he knows I’m fucking his cousin? God, if her big brother ever found out, I would be dead. He’d bury my body so well no one would ever find me again.

He is completely overreacting. I’m sure Iris’s brother could give two shits over who she’s fucking.

Me: Like I said, I’ll take care of it. Be prepared to leave early tomorrow morning.

Brooks: Will do. Keep me posted?

Me: You know it.

I open another text thread and send a message to Rowan.

Me: Do you care if Brooks comes out here tomorrow?

He responds quickly.

Row: Not at all. Love that guy. I’ve known him forever.

Me: Okay cool. He can stay in my room if it’s a problem.

Row: Nah, there are so many bedrooms in this place, we’ll find him one. Tell him he can drive out tonight if he wants to.

If I do that, Brooks will drive straight over here immediately. I don’t know if I want to deal with him tonight.

Me: I just texted him. He’ll head out first thing tomorrow.

Row: Perfect.

I wait a few minutes before I send a text to Brooks.

Me: Drive out here tomorrow morning. They’ll be expecting you.

Brooks: Thanks, man. Will do. Hopefully Iris won’t be pissed.

Me: I doubt she will. At least then all of us can pair up.

Brooks: Meaning you and Willow?

Me: Definitely.

Brooks: Niiiice.

I jerk my head up when I hear hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, light enough that I could almost believe they weren’t there at all. Slowly, I rise from the chair, pocketing my phone as I carefully slip out of the nook.

It’s Willow dressed in all black, her hair flowing down her back and not in its usual ponytail. She pauses on the second to last step, scanning the area, her head slowly moving.

My chest aches at seeing her. This feels like a moment that I’ve been waiting for forever is finally coming true and I’m suddenly nervous as fuck.

I don’t want to blow this—my chance with Willow.

She finally takes those last two steps and rounds the stairwell, her soft voice reaching me.

“Rhett?”

I appear out of the shadows, startling her, but she doesn’t make a sound. Her eyes go wide when she spots me, and she reaches for my hand, quietly leading me toward the back of the house. Until we’re outside on a massive patio with statues and giant planters full of flowers.

“This house is unbelievable,” I murmur as I look around.

“Come on, we’ll go downstairs where the gardens are.” Willow tugs on my hand and I follow her down the stairs. I can smell the lush fragrance of roses before I even see them, mixing with the nostalgic scent of fresh cut grass.

That smell always makes me think of a football field. When I was younger, there was no better scent in the world.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I ask Willow when I realize we’re still on the move.

“Iris’s mom had a maze put into the gardens last spring. I like to get lost in it,” Willow explains.

We do exactly that—get lost in the maze. The shrubbery walls tower over us and they’re narrow, making me feel boxed in. We come across the occasional bench or statue as we make our way through it, and at one point, I tug on Willow’s hand, pressing her against the vegetation wall with my body.

“What are you doing?” She’s breathless, her chest rising and falling with each breath, brushing against my own.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” I lean in close, my mouth at her neck as I breathe her in.

Willow’s scent is far better than any fresh cut grass.

She rests her hands against my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my sweatshirt. “I don’t know. Having fun?”

“Torturing me.” I pull away from her neck to stare into her eyes, my gaze dropping to her lips. Lingering there. I dip my head, about to kiss her, but she presses her hand against my mouth, stopping me.

“Not yet,” she murmurs. “Let’s wait until we find the center of the maze.”

Somehow, she wiggles out of my hold and takes off. With a groan, I follow after her, dragging my feet, tired of running around in a circle. When we finally do discover the center, she rushes over to a bench that sits right in front of a massive lit fountain, the water gurgling as it cascades down.

“Join me.” She pats the empty spot next to her on the bench and I settle right in, stretching my arm across the back of the bench, my fingers brushing her shoulder. “See? Isn’t it beautiful? It’s worth finding the center.”

“How do we get out of here?”

“I’m not sure.” She shrugs, seeming at complete ease. “We’ll figure it out.”

I slowly shake my head as I lift my hand, my fingers tangling in her silky hair. “I like that you wore your hair down.”

“I rarely do it.”

“I like it. It’s pretty.”

Her smile is serene. “I like that you’re not afraid to give compliments.”

“Don’t encourage me. I’ll start complimenting you so much, you’ll beg me to stop,” I warn her.

She laughs. “I like how funny you are too.”

“You think I’m funny?”

Willow nods, leaning closer to me. “Very.”

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No!” She starts to rear back, but I drop my arm to her shoulders, keeping her in place. “I’m just … happy.”

“Why are you happy?” I want to hear her say that I’m the reason for her happiness.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Her hand lands on my thigh, her touch light. As if she’s testing me out. “Can I admit something to you?”

“Please.”

“I don’t like playing games.” Willow blinks at me, the moon touching her skin, casting her in a silvery glow. She’s beautiful. Sweet and open and fuck, she’s going to be all mine by the time this weekend is over. I guarantee it.

“The only game I like to play is football,” I say truthfully.

Her smile is faint. “I’m talking about with—relationships. Not that I’m expecting one from you. Not this soon, but just know that I’m tired of pretending that I feel indifferent when it comes to you.

“You don’t feel indifferent about me?” I’m smiling.

She slowly shakes her head, her hair spilling all over her shoulders. I’m tempted to bury my face in it, but I restrain myself. “I like you, Rhett.”

Those four words hang between us in the moonlit night, softly spoken and touching the depths of my heart. Sounds corny as shit and I don’t normally think like this, but what’s happening between Will and me isn’t normal.

It feels … life-changing. Earth shaking.

“I like you too, Will.” I touch her face, letting my fingers drift across her cheek until I’m touching the corner of her mouth. She parts her lips and I slip my index finger between them, tracing their plump softness, and when I feel her tongue lick my fingertip, I groan.

Cupping her face, I tilt her head back and stare into her eyes. “When I kiss you, this changes everything.”

Willow nods, not deterred by my statement at all. “Okay.”

“If that Silas creep comes around you again, I’m breaking his legs,” I say vehemently.

“I don’t want him to come around me,” she murmurs. “But I don’t want you getting in trouble either.”

My smile is slow. Some would probably call it lethal. “He won’t be a problem anymore, baby. I promise.”

Her frown is slight. “Did you just call me baby?”

“Did I?” I didn’t even realize it. “You don’t like that?”

“I love it,” she whispers, and I swear I can feel her skin grow warm beneath my palms. “I like it when you call me Will too.”

“I’ve been calling you princess in my thoughts lately.”

“You think about me?” She sounds surprised.

“Will.” I lean in, my forehead touching hers. “I think about you all the fucking time.”

She tilts her head back a little, aligning our mouths, and I can feel her breath waft across my lips. Can sense the faint tremble that runs through her. “I think about you too. All the time. It’s like I can’t stop.”