Chapter 9 #3
“Bristol, tell me what’s going on. Other than you want to sleep with me.”
“Not funny, Moretti. I don’t … I-I don’t know,” she stammers. Her hands are visibly shaking, and her legs tremble just slightly. I wouldn’t have noticed except I can feel the tremors as she leans against me.
My hands move firmly to her arms. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”
Bristol shakes her head. “It’s not that. I don’t know what it is, but it’s been happening more often.”
I suck in a nervous breath. “More often. You mean this has happened before?” I reach for her wrist, taking her pulse while glancing at my watch.
“What are you, some kind of a nurse?” she jokes and winces. She sounds out of breath still, but it’s gotten a little better.
“I’m going to school for medicine. I want to study to become a doctor. But I just finished my first year of undergrad.” I haven’t started any classes that would be helpful. I have years to go before I’m actually studying to be a physician.
She should know this, we’re the same age, we went to the same private schools growing up. Her father is a billionaire. My dad, he’s mafia.
“I want to take you over to the school’s urgent care.”
“Absolutely not!” Bristol shoves me away. “I’m fine.” She stands, and I wrap an arm around her waist.
She’s trembling. It’s slight, but I notice it with her in my arms.
“Are you sure you’re not just nervous because you’ve fallen in love with me?” I joke, trying to make light of the situation.
Bristol rolls her eyes and groans. “I assure you, Liam, that will never happen.”
I try not to take offense. I mean, it’s Bristol Greyson, my mortal enemy. Not that I have an immortal one, but the two of us would kill each other, even if we were the last two people on the planet. Humanity wouldn’t survive us.
“Ouch.” I’m smiling, teasing her, trying to make light of the situation. “Where are you heading next?”
“Honestly—”
“No, lie to me.”
She snorts. “I should head home.”
“You came all this way to campus for a cup of coffee?” I glance at her, my arm firmly around her waist. “Maybe you should lay off the caffeine. How many cups did you have?”
“Just the one.”
“And this morning?” I ask, trying to figure it all out.
“I’ve only had the one cup of coffee today.” She forces a smile. The color has returned to her cheeks, and the tremulousness has eased up. If she’s shaking, I don’t feel it.
I doubt she could hide it from me. At least not with the way she was earlier on the bench.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to drive home?”
Bristol cracks a grin. “Are you catching feelings for me, Moretti?”
“I don’t want to see you crash into another unsuspecting family,” I offer in way of an explanation. “Let me drive you home.”
“It’s fine. I took the bus. You don’t have to worry about me killing some pregnant woman behind the wheel of a car, because I don’t drive.
I mean, I have my license, but I don’t ever drive anywhere.
No car. Always had a chauffeur growing up, rich kid problems.” The smile makes me think she’s not entirely happy about that little fact.
“Do you mean to tell me your dad didn’t buy you a car for your sixteenth birthday?” I’m surprised. I always imagined Bristol to be spoiled.
“He wouldn’t even let me get my license until I turned eighteen,” she grumbles. “Overprotective asshole. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but he just made my life hell in high school.”
“If you say so.” There’s no sense in arguing with her. Although I don’t remember her life being ‘hell’ while we were in high school.
While we had different social circles in high school, I mostly spent my four years avoiding her. Luckily, we didn’t have many classes together.
However, middle school is a different story. We fought, constantly. Same in elementary school. There were a lot of trips to the principal’s office, both of us constantly in trouble.
“I’m going to drive you back to campus.”
I walk with her slowly in the direction of my house, where my car is parked. I’m not keen on her seeing where I live. Next week, she’ll probably throw toilet paper over the trees just to give me grief.
“You don’t need to do that.” Bristol’s body tenses, but I keep walking, ignoring the feel of her warm back against my fingers.
The sun is bright, causing me to squint as we walk. “I’m driving you, but you have to promise not to laugh or make fun.”
“Make fun of what?” Bristol glances at me curiously.
I inhale sharply, hoping not to humiliate myself. I could ask to borrow Luca’s vehicle, but then I’ll have some explaining to do. Taking her back in my car will just be easier overall.
“My car.”
She shrugs and walks with me back to the house. It’s a good twenty minutes, but she gets steadier on her feet for most of it. The walk back is covered with trees blocking the sun, making the air feel several degrees cooler.
I take the last sip of my coffee with one hand, the other still planted on her back. I’m almost afraid to let go.
I’m not sure why, probably because she’ll end up on the ground unconscious, and I don’t want to have to deal with explaining that to anyone.
“Let me grab my keys real quick.” I carry my house key separate from my car keys. I head inside the house, and Bristol is right behind me, following me inside.
“Daddy!” Zeke shouts and jumps off the sofa to tackle my legs.
He’s getting stronger every day. “Liam,” I say, correcting him. The kid knows I’m not his father. Why the hell he’s torturing me today, I have no fricking idea. “Daddy is somewhere around here.”
“Hi,” Bristol smiles and bends down to Zeke’s level. “I’m Bristol.”
“Hi,” Zeke says, and his cheeks grow red. He buries his face in my legs.
“Since when are you shy?” I ask, rubbing his back and lifting him into the air, flipping him upside down.
I plant him back on the sofa after another air flip and grab my keys hanging by the door. “Catch you later,” I say, hurrying to leave before there’s a barrage of questions for me and, more importantly, Bristol.
Harper hurries out of the bedroom, her face flushed. “Sorry, I was just folding clothes!”
Yeah, sure you were.
I’ve seen that look before—the messed-up hair and wrinkled shirt. She and Luca were taking their clothes off. I’m not sure there was any folding involved.
“I’m Harper.” She gives a quick wave to introduce herself.
“Bristol. Hi,” Bristol says, standing by the door.
Harper’s eyes widen with a warm smile. “Please, come on in. Don’t mind Zeke. He’s just watching cartoons. You guys are welcome to the television—”
“We’re just leaving,” I say, grabbing the door handle.
“I don’t mind staying for a little bit.” Bristol’s nervous smile makes my heart flutter.
No.
She should not be capable of stirring anything other than anger within me.
“You should mind,” I say. “We hate each other.”
Harper gives a peculiar look to me but keeps quiet. Thankfully, she knows when she’s not wanted.
“It’s Saturday. Unless you have plans,” Bristol brushes past me with ease and plops down on the sofa next to Zeke, making herself right at home.
What the hell, Bristol.
“I mean, I could have plans.”
“Hey, there.” Bristol focuses on Zeke, ignoring me.
Yeah, that’s more like it. She’s not here for me. She clearly likes kids.
Zeke smiles up at her, ruddy cheeks, and bats his eyelashes.
“Do you have plans?” Bristol asks nonchalantly over her shoulder. She doesn’t even glance back at me. The girl slips out of her shoes and plops her feet up on the sofa.
Am I seriously going to have competition with him?
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
“Good. Then I can stay, for a little bit.”
That wasn’t what I was saying no to. Oh, fuck it.
Luca steps out of the bedroom, raising an eyebrow when he sees an unfamiliar girl on the couch with Zeke. “Sorry, I was making the bed. Didn’t hear you guys come in.”
I roll my eyes at Luca. “At least get your stories straight.”
Harper and Luca exchange a glance and laugh. Harper’s cheeks redden and she giggles, grabbing Luca’s hand and tearing back into the bedroom before shutting the door.
I swear we live with them, so they have a full-time babysitter.
“They’re cute together,” Bristol says and then pauses and laughs. “That’s your teammate, Luca Ricci.”
I inhale sharply. “Yes. Why are you asking?” If she’s got the hots for him, someone’s about to get murdered.
“He’s a really good player for the Narwhals. I mean, your team would suck without him.”
I shuffle my shoes off and walk around the coffee table to grab the empty spot on the sofa, with Zeke next to me. “He’s all right.”
“You guys lost the last game of your season because Luca didn’t play. And not by a little bit. You got creamed.”
“Don’t remind me,” I growl at Bristol. “How could I forget you were always this annoying?”
Bristol doesn’t so much as look at me as I watch her, study the lines of her face, the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She’s a sight of beauty, and I can’t tear my gaze away. I’m waiting for her to snap at me, make some smart-ass remark like she always does.
“Hey, cutie.” She ruffles Zeke’s hair, and I’m one-hundred percent jealous of him.
Bristol then glances up at me. “You shouldn’t talk like that in front of the little one. They learn everything.”
My jaw drops. “You’re in here two minutes, telling me what to do, how to talk, that I suck at hockey. Wow. Maybe you should ride that bus back to Great Falls.”
“Maybe I should.” Bristol sighs and glances at her watch.
Zeke climbs onto Bristol’s lap and rests his hands on her cheeks. It’s the same move that I’ve seen Luca do with Harper.
And sure enough, Zeke leans in and plants a giant kiss on her lips.
Bristol laughs and wipes the kiss away with the back of her arm. “Okay, Zeke, I think it’s time for cartoons.” She spins him around and plants him back on the sofa.
I grab Zeke, pulling him into my lap. “Consent, kid. You got to respect the ladies.”
“Consent,” Zeke repeats, but I’m not sure that he understands what it means. “Tickle me!” Zeke squeals and wiggles on my lap.
He never runs out of energy. I tickle his hips, watching him squirm and giggle, his arms and legs flailing wildly.
“More tickles!” Zeke proclaims, never seeming to get tired of the fits of laughter.
Bristol watches quietly. “You’re really good with him.”
“He’s one of my closest friend’s kid. We all live together. Kind of have to be, or this would be hell.” I gesture to the house, our living arrangement.
“Hell,” Zeke repeats and giggles, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Hell.” It’s a new word that he’s discovered, thanks to me.
“Shit.” I curse, knowing that Harper is going to yell at me for teaching the kid another bad word.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Zeke chants, and I throw my head back, close my eyes, and groan.
When I open my eyes, Bristol is all smiles.
“Don’t say that.” I glare at Zeke. “Those are bad words.”
Zeke giggles. “Uncle Liam in trouble.” His words roll a bit together and aren’t enunciated properly, but I’ve learned to understand him pretty well.
Bristol wrinkles her nose and holds a finger up to Zeke to show him to be quiet. “Those aren’t nice words,” she says. Her voice is calm; there’s no hint of anger or malice. “We don’t say those things because they hurt people. Do you understand?”
Zeke stares at her and nods.
I have no clue whether he just comprehended everything she said or not, but he plops back down in my lap and resumes his attention on the cartoons.
I’m sure his attention span will be broken again in less than five minutes.
“You’re really good with him,” I admit, surprised that she’s not a monster all the time, like she was with me growing up.
“I can say the same about you.” Bristol glances me over, and I see an unfamiliar smile, almost like she’s looking me over and could ravish me.
I’m definitely imagining things.
Bristol Greyson hates me.
“Did you want to watch the rest of this cartoon, or should I drive you back?” I ask.
“You can drive me back. I’m ready.” She stands and slides her thumb into the tiny pocket on her skirt, and a slip of paper falls to the floor.
I lean down to pick it up. “You dropped—” I glance at it, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you carrying my address with you?”