17. Lilian
Chapter 17
Lilian
“Bash!” Gemma exclaims, momentarily distracted from my refusal. “I didn’t know you were going to join us.”
“A little birdie told me.” Sebastian winks at me.
He knew. Of course, he knew, and he didn’t think to mention that his sister is a friend of mine.
“Luckily, we’re not here to eat.” Brandon sits down beside Mary.
Connor follows and takes the seat beside him, sitting on the other side of Jason.
Sebastian comes to stand beside me. “Jason, do you mind scooting over a bit so I can talk to my sister?”
Jason glares at him. “Sure.” He scoots over, and I follow suit.
Sebastian sits, trapping me now between him and Jason. Fantastic. What could go wrong?
“Lil, this is my brother, Bash,” Gemma says. “Bash, this is Lil. A good friend of mine. Be nice. ”
“Pleasure to meet you, Lil.” Sebastian holds out his hand.
I hesitate, pulse jumping. But refusing to shake his hand would only draw more attention, so I place my hand in his, hyper-aware of the warmth and strength in his hold. “Likewise.”
“So, how do you know each other?” Sebastian asks.
“We go to the same classes,” Gemma says.
“Hmm. So, sis. You and your friends.” Sebastian looks at me. “Coming to the game tonight?”
“Of course. You don’t mind if Lil comes to the after-party too, do you?” Gemma asks.
“Not at all.” Sebastian’s hand slides onto my thigh, startling me. “Looking forward to seeing you there.” His eyes meet mine, a silent challenge in their depths as his hand inches higher up beneath my skirt.
No one seems to notice, but I’m hyper-aware of it. The heat of his palm on my bare thigh and his thumb tracing slow, teasing circles on my skin. I stare at my half-eaten salad, struggling to stay composed.
What do I do? Jason is right beside me.
“She’s not going. She told your sister already.” Jason shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth.
“Is that so?” Sebastian’s fingers float further up my thigh, and I clench them together, trying to trap his hand.
But it’s no use. His hand inches higher, grazing the hem of my slip.
My breaths come quicker as I try to form a coherent response. “I-I suppose I could go.” Hopefully, my voice doesn’t betray me as much as my body wants his hand to continue. To glide his fingers…
“Wonderful.” His hand retreats a few inches, fingers splayed over my inner thigh in a possessive claim. “The game starts at seven.”
“Then it’s decided. Mary and I will pick you up at your dorm, Lil,” Gemma says. “Around 6?”
“Perfect,” I say.
“I’m off.” Jason rises, and before I get a chance to speak, he has vanished.
“Sorry,” Gemma shoots me an apologetic look.
“No need. It’s okay. I’ll talk to him later.”
“Okay, good. Wouldn’t want to be the reason you two got into a fight,” Gemma says. “It’ll be so much fun tonight! We can grab dinner after, too, if you like.”
“At the after-party, yes,” Sebastian says.
“You’ll have the pleasure to eat my food. I’ll be making Paella, guys, so I dare you to go eat at some restaurant,” Brandon says.
I nod mutely, my sole focus on Sebastian’s hand. It’s maddening, intoxicating, spurring a slow ache between my legs.
“You act like you’re already a Michelin star chef,” Mary says.
“Did you ever taste my food, Miss Critic?”
“Can’t say I remember.”
“God. I think I’m having a heart attack. Connor tell her.” Brandon acts like he would faint into Connor’s arm, who tries to keep Brandon at arm’s length .
“Guess you need to do better, Bran,” Connor says.
“What? You, too? You side with her now?” Brandon asks.
Connor shrugs.
“What about you, Gemma? You ate my food. You liked the lasagna I made, right?”
“Glad you decided to come tonight,” Sebastian whispers into my ear as the others are distracted talking about Brandon’s cooking.
“You knew I’d be here,” I whisper-yell back.
“Did I?” He cocks his head, still grinning. “My memory must be slipping.”
I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. “Very funny.”
His lips brush my ear. “You won’t regret this, princess.”
My breath catches, pulse quickening. I check around, but no one is paying attention to us. Still, I glare at Sebastian.
“Bran, we should head to practice.” Sebastian stands, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rides up, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. “Con, you coming as well?”
Connor nods.
“See you tonight, ladies,” Brandon waves as they leave.
“We should get going, too,” Mary says, standing up and shouldering her bag. “Professor Collins won’t be happy if we’re late.”
I gather my things.
He’s Gemma’s brother. Can we still be friends if I’m with her brother? This complicates everything.
How would Gemma react if she knew ?
Now, I definitely can’t tell her who I’m seeing.
“Bash should be warming up somewhere.” Gemma cranes her neck to scan the players below.
I try to act nonchalant as my eyes sweep over the field. But… Where is he?
“There, number ten!” Gemma points him out as we find our seats in the stands.
Mary pulls out snacks and offers them to us while my eyes follow Sebastian stretching and warming up.
He scans the stands, and when his eyes lock with mine, a jolt of electricity runs through me. I offer a small wave, hoping it doesn’t betray my inner thrill, and his lips curl into a subtle smirk. He holds his helmet high in an unmistakable salute directed at us… or maybe just me?
It would be like a scene straight out of one of my novels—the knight dedicating his win to the lady. Just without the win.
“Did you see that?” Gemma asks. “Bash only does that for his favorite people. Knew I’m his favorite sister.”
“You’re his only sister.” Mary laughs.
Off-limits. He’s her brother. Untouchable.
“Doesn’t change the fact I’m his favorite,” Gemma says.
The stands buzz with energy, fans cheering and waving flags in support of their teams, and the scent of hot dogs hangs in the air .
“So, Jason and you?” Mary asks.
“We’re childhood friends.”
“You say that, but the way he looks at you and the way he acted at lunch. I don’t know, Lil. It seems more.” Mary says.
“It’s not like that. Jason’s like a brother to me.” But what if it’s true? Have I been blind to the way he looks at me? That wouldn’t be good because—No, it’s nothing. They don’t know Jason like I do. We’re friends.
The whistle blows, signaling the start of the game, and the players take their positions. Sebastian jogs onto the field, his athletic physique on full display. He moves with such confidence and purpose that I can’t take my eyes off him.
And when he glances up at the stands again, his gaze smoldering, I know I’m in trouble. Because no matter how much I try to deny it, I’m falling for him. Hard.
Fantastic. What am I getting myself into?
The roar of the crowd is deafening every time a point is scored. I try to follow the action on the field, but it’s all a blur of bodies colliding and whistles blowing.
“So, what exactly is happening?” I lean over to Gemma.
“Well, our team is on offense right now. That means they’re trying to score.” She points to the field. “See, the quarterback. That’s Bash. He’s trying to throw the ball to one of his receivers. And that’s Brandon. He plays tight end.” Gemma points toward number 85 .
I nod, pretending to understand, but my eyes are glued to Sebastian. The way he commands the field and the way he moves is mesmerizing.
He gets tackled to the ground.
“Oh, did you see that? He just got sacked!” Mary exclaims.
I wince. “Is that bad?”
“It’s not great. It means the defense got to him before he could throw the ball,” Gemma explains.
Brushing off his jersey, Sebastian picks himself up, jaw clenched tight.
The game continues, a flurry of starts and stops, cheers and groans from the crowd. I’m on the edge of my seat, heart racing every time Sebastian takes the field.
“Touchdown!” Gemma and Mary scream in unison, leaping to their feet.
I join them, clapping and cheering as Sebastian spikes the ball in the end zone. He turns to the stands with a triumphant, cocky grin, and his eyes find mine, making my knees weak.
The game rages on, and I find myself swept up in the fervor, my voice hoarse from screaming Sebastian’s name.
“Damn, Lil, I didn’t know you had it in you!” Gemma laughs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing for my brother.”
I try to play it off with a shrug. “I’m just really into football.”
Mary snorts. “Sure, and I’m the Queen of England.”
The ball soars through the air, spiraling towards Sebastian’s waiting hands. But then, out of nowhere, Jason slams into him, knocking him off his feet and snatching the ball away. Sebastian goes down hard, his helmet bouncing off the turf.
The crowd gasps, confusion rippling through the stands.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
“I hope so,” Gemma says.
“Aren’t they on the same team?”
“They are.”
A man’s voice booms across the field, his face red. “Barron! Campbell! Sidelines, now!”
“This can’t be good. That’s their coach,” Mary says.
Sebastian and Jason jog to the bench, their shoulders tense. The team huddles around them, and Sebastian gets in Jason’s face, his finger jabbing at his chest. Jason shoves him back, and Brandon steps between them, his hands held up in a placating gesture.
The coach gestures at Jason, who then rips his helmet off, tosses it to the ground, and stalks off the field.
Sebastian glares after him, his chest heaving and his fists clenched at his sides. Brandon claps him on the shoulder, murmuring something in his ear, but Sebastian shakes his head.
What happened?
The game continues, and I lean forward in my seat, absorbed in the action on the field.
Sebastian maneuvers the ball downfield and cocks his arm back, launching the ball in a beautiful spiral. It lands perfectly in the hands of his receiver, who races into the end zone. Another touchdown .
The final whistle blows, sealing our victory, and I’m on my feet, screaming and hugging Gemma and Mary.
They did it. They won.
The team crowds around Sebastian, slapping him on the back and hugging each other.
Gemma tugs at my arm. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him.”
I nod, but my feet are like lead as we make our way through cheering fans.
It’s chaotic, but Gemma forges ahead, leading us towards the locker room entrance, where most of the players have gathered. What will I even do when I meet him? Kiss him?
Just then, a strong hand yanks me aside by my waist.