5. Lilian
Chapter 5
Lilian
I stare at the pages of my book, the words blurring together. The bustling chatter of the library fades into white noise as I stir my cooling matcha tea. I’ve read the same sentence at least ten times now, but my thoughts keep circling back to last night.
To the pounding music, the bitter taste of beer, Mike kissing another girl, and… I bury my face in my hands.
I can’t believe I hit him. A ridiculously handsome guy, no less. Sebastian. And then he had to go and be all charming and flirty and kiss me like I didn’t assault him in his own room.
I kissed him. I kissed a complete stranger. A stranger who happened to witness me having a total meltdown. Worse, a self-proclaimed playboy, according to Ju.
What was I thinking? I wasn’t, clearly. I was so caught up in the moment. The pain, the fear, the constant ache—it all just… disappeared. And I didn’t have any nightmares .
He’s probably forgotten all about me by now. And even if he hasn’t, it’s not like something would ever happen between us. He felt sorry for me, or he was looking for an easy hookup.
It was just a kiss, a momentary lapse in judgment. It didn’t mean anything.
I groan, dropping my head onto the open book. Maybe if I stay here long enough, the ground will swallow me up, and I won’t have to deal with any of this. I’ve never let go like that before, lost control so completely.
How would a woman in a Regency Romance novel handle this? Would she have even been at a party in the first place? Probably not. It would have been a ball. And if she had punched a handsome stranger, she wouldn’t have ended up making out with him afterward.
No, a proper Regency lady would have been mortified. She would have apologized profusely and fainted from the shock of it all. And then she would have gone home and spent the rest of her days embroidering or playing the pianoforte, trying to forget the whole thing ever happened. Faint dead away. Or the very least, never speak to the man again, too mortified by her own shocking behavior.
But this isn’t Regency England.
I pull out my phone, my finger hovering over the VibeGrid icon. I shouldn’t do this. It’s not like me to cyberstalk someone. I tap on the app and navigate to Ju’s profile. She must be following him. I scroll through the list. After a few seconds, I find him. Bash. I click on his profile, and my screen fills with his photos.
His bio is short and simple. Seize the day with no promise of tomorrow.
The first photo is a group shot, Sebastian surrounded by his friends, all of them wearing matching football jerseys. They’re grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Wait. That means… Is he on the same team as Jason?
I scroll down. There’s another photo of Sebastian with a gorgeous blonde, her long hair cascading over her shoulder. They look so comfortable together, so natural. Is she his girlfriend? A pang of something I don’t want to acknowledge settles in my heart.
The next photo is of Sebastian on the field, his helmet tucked under his arm, sweat glistening on his brow. He looks every inch the star quarterback, confident, arrogant, and in control. It’s a far cry from the guy I met last night, the one who teased me and kissed me so tenderly.
And then I find myself staring at the training photos—Sebastian lifting weights or mid-stride on a running track. His muscles tense with exertion, and his skin glistens with sweat.
It’s easy to see why people are drawn to him.
I keep scrolling, each image painting a picture of the perfect college athlete. Sebastian at parties, Sebastian with his teammates, Sebastian with beautiful girls draped over him. It’s all so cliché, so predictable.
But then I stop on a photo of Sebastian as a teenager with a little girl, likely five or six years old. She’s perched on his shoulders, her tiny hands grabbing his hair as she laughs. Sebastian’s grinning up at her, his eyes crinkled in genuine happiness. It’s such a contrast to the other images. Something real.
I zoom in on the photo, trying to get a closer look at the little girl’s face. Is she his sister? A niece?
I’m studying the image, and my thumb slips, double-tapping the screen. Shit. Did I…? The little heart icon below the photo turns purple, mocking me.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
I tap it again, unliking the photo. Maybe he doesn’t have notifications turned on. Oh god, what if he does? What if he finds out I was stalking his profile like some kind of creepy fan girl?
I close the app and toss my phone back into my bag, my heart racing. This can’t be happening.
It’s fine. He receives tons of likes on his photos anyway, so he won’t even notice mine, right?
But what if he does? What if he thinks I’m interested in him? I mean, I guess I am, sort of. But not like that. Not in a stalker-y, obsessive way.
I take a sip of my matcha, hoping the caffeine will jumpstart my brain and force myself to focus on the book in front of me. I need to study, to prepare for my classes.
Not on Sebastian. Even if he does have the most mesmerizing eyes .
How am I supposed to focus on English literature when I can’t stop thinking about him?
I trace my fingers over my lips.
“Hey.” A shadow falls across my face.
I sit up in the armchair to find Mike looming over me, eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing here?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He jabs a finger at me. “I know you trashed my car last night. What’s wrong with you?”
“What? No, I-I didn’t do anything.”
“Pathetic.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I fucked Blake instead of you?” He rolls his eyes as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
Hide.
Memories flood back unbidden.
No, not now. My heart races as the hammering grows louder, reverberating through my skull. I cover my ears, trying to block it out. It’s not real. It can’t be real.
But the sound persists, an insistent hammering that drowns out everything else. I glance around, searching for the source. Mike and the other students in the library appear oblivious, heads bent over their books and laptops.
Please, please, please stop. But it only intensifies until it’s all I can hear, all I can think about.
“Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Are you even listening? ”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“What? I…”
“Are you that petty? We only went on a few dates, and it’s not like you’re very fuckable…” He leans in closer, his breath hot against my face. “What kind of psycho are you?”
Hide.
“Is there a problem here?”
I startle, the thudding disappearing and merging with the shuffle of papers and whispers between students.
“I asked, is there a problem, Mister?” The librarian, Mrs. Hofstatt, a stern-looking woman with graying hair and glasses perched on her nose, stands a few feet away, arms folded over her chest as she regards Mike.
Mike curses under his breath, but he straightens up and faces the librarian. “No, ma’am. No problem at all.” He shoots me a glare before stalking off, disappearing between the stacks.
The librarian turns to me, her expression softening. “Are you alright, dear? You look a bit pale.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I’m fine, thanks. Just… need some air.”
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” With a parting pat on my shoulder, she continues on her rounds.
Alone again, I slump into the chair and release a trembling breath. What the hell was that? If I stayed in, everything would be alright. Why did I think going out was a good idea? Never again .
I gather my things and shove them haphazardly into my bag. I’ve had enough drama for one day.
Outside, the bright sunlight makes me squint.
I walk, not really paying attention to where I’m going. I just need to move to put some distance between myself and what happened.
That was close. Too close.
A flash of blonde hair catches my eye, and my heart skips a beat. Sebastian. He’s walking towards me, hands in his pockets and that heart-melting smile on his face. The simplicity of his outfit, white t-shirt and jeans, only serves to highlight his athletic build.
I can’t deal with him right now. I’m about to turn and bolt when a hand clamps down on my shoulder, making me jump.
“Lil! There you are.”
Jason.
“Hey. What’s up?”
He looks me over. “You okay? You seem a little jumpy.”
“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just, uh, a lot on my mind. Got a test tomorrow. You know how it is.” I try to laugh, but it comes out sounding strained.
“I was in the library looking for you. But you weren’t at your usual spot.” He reaches out, grasping my hand. “Did something happen?”
“It’s nothing. Some guy accused me of something I didn’t do.”
Jason’s brow furrows. “What guy? What did he say to you? ”
I shake my head, glancing over my shoulder. He’s gone. Probably for the best. “It’s not important. Mike was just being an ass.”
“Mike?” Jason’s grip on my hand tightens. “What did that prick do now?”
He’s my best friend, but sometimes I wish he wasn’t so overbearing.
I lift my shoulders. “He accused me of trashing his car or something. I don’t know.”
“Why? You wouldn’t do something like that.”
I fiddle with the hem of my skirt, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “He hooked up with another girl last night. I guess he assumed I’d be upset about it because I saw them.”
“I’ll tell him to leave you alone.”
“No!” The last thing I need is more drama.
He studies me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he reaches out, cupping my cheek with his hand. “Did you have one of your episodes again?”
I flinch at his touch, stepping back to put some distance between us. “No, I’m fine.”
He drops his hand. “Lil.”
“Seriously, Jay. I’m okay.” I force my happy face. “You don’t need to go reporting back to my brothers.”
“It’s not—I just worry about you.”
“I know.” And I do. Jason has always been there for me, even when I push him away. “But I can take care of myself. ”
They promised.
He nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we get some ice cream? It’s the perfect weather for it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. Ju’s coming, too. That’s actually why I was looking for you.”
I hesitate, weighing my options. I could go back to my room and wallow in self-pity, or I could spend some time with my friends and try to forget about everything else.
“Alright, fine. But you’re buying.”
Jason grins, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Deal.”
I glance behind us again. Where did he go?
“At which time do you have training?” I ask.
“Since when are you interested in that?”
“Uh, I thought it would be fun to watch and support you, and I found this new cupcake recipe with a lot of protein. That’s good, isn’t it?”