Page 18 of Creeping Lily

JUSTIN

A nyone who says they’re not a little in love with Lily Snow is lying.

Liar, liar, liar.

Let’s start with me.

The girl is smoking hot—though she downplays it like she’s allergic to attention.

I don’t think she even realizes how sexy guys find her.

She’s not caked in makeup, not draped in designer labels, not bending herself into whatever shape the world wants.

It’s… refreshing as hell having a girl around who doesn’t resemble any other.

She’s the kind of beautiful that sneaks up on you. No fireworks, no over-the-top theatrics—just a slow burn that hooks you without warning.

And she’s not the type to waste her college years draped over every guy who glances her way.

She’s not chasing some social media-worthy love story or collecting admirers like trophies.

Her focus is locked tight on her future, and she guards it like a fortress.

No dating half the guys who stare at her.

No all-night movie marathons. Barely even a social life.

It’s not that she’s hard work. She’s just… untouchable .

And she’s got secrets. I can see it in the way she watches a room without looking like she’s watching, in the way she flinches at certain words, in the quiet armor she wears like a second skin. There’s fear in her—real fear.

Even Bethany, who’s been her shadow since she started at the university, hasn’t cracked her open.

If I wasn’t worried I’d find something I didn’t want to know, I’d have already dug into her past. It wouldn’t be hard—I’ve got the resources.

But all we’ve ever been able to pin down is the name of some tiny nowhere town she came from.

So small, it doesn’t even show up on any maps.

Sometimes I wonder if she made it up just to keep us from finding her.

And then there’s Goliath’s interest in her.

No clue what that’s about, but it’s the kind of interest that comes with orders — quiet, unshakable, non-negotiable.

I’ve been told to keep her in my sights. No details. No context. Just watch her . Protect her at all costs. If someone even looks at her wrong, I’m supposed to know before it happens. If someone breathes too close, I’m supposed to decide whether they keep breathing at all.

Orders like that don’t come down for just anyone. And it’s not just the usual “keep the boss’s kid sister safe” sort of gig. This feels different. Heavier. Like they know something about her that no one’s saying.

Who the hell is Lily Snow?

She’s not some spoiled mafia princess, not a known asset, not anyone in the system. She’s quiet, deliberate, a ghost in plain sight.

But Goliath doesn’t burn resources on ghosts without a damn good reason.

So I watch.

I protect.

And every day, the question digs deeper into my skull :

What’s her connection to us? And why does the idea of anyone touching her make my trigger finger itch?

Especially with Wendolyn sniffing around. I don’t like the way she looks at Lily—like she’s sizing her up, looking for weak spots. Wendolyn’s got sharp edges, and I’m not sure which way they’ll cut. Lily pretends not to be bothered by it, but I know she is.

My thoughts get cut short when Trick’s voice breaks through.

“You’re not even trying, man,” he complains, as I stub my cigarette into the gravel under my boot.

“I brought her out here, didn’t I?” The reminder slides right past him. “The rest is up to you. Unless you want me to literally take her hand and put it in yours. I now pronounce you boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He shoots me an irritated look. Trick McCordy’s a good guy, but he acts like I’m a miracle worker.

“You sure you don’t have designs on her?” he presses.

He’s unsure, but I’m not.

Yeah, I think she’s hot. And yeah, she makes me feel…

something I can’t name without choking on it.

But the minute Trick made his interest clear, I backed off.

I’ve never seen him this gone over a girl, and I’m not about to be the guy who gets in the way of my best friend’s happiness.

Not when he staked his claim before I had the guts to.

He told me straight-up—he fell for her the moment he saw her.

I swallow the lump in my throat and light another cigarette. I’ve done everything I can to push the two of them together, but Lily’s not biting. She’s as unimpressed as she is uninterested.

The guilt sticks to me like smoke. I’m not immune to the way she sometimes looks at me. And she’s not immune to the way I look at her. But whatever’s between us has to stay buried.

“I’m not interested in Lily Snow,” I tell him. The words feel like a lie as they leave my mouth, so I lock my expression down until I’m nothing but neutral.

Trick studies me, unconvinced. Can’t blame him. Every straight guy within ten feet of her takes notice.

“I’m not,” I repeat, then add, “But you know others are.”

It’s a warning. If he doesn’t make a move, someone else will. And with Wendolyn lurking, watching Lily the way a cat watches a cornered bird, I can’t shake the feeling that trouble’s already circling.

“You’re trying awfully hard to get those two together,” Bethany says, her voice edged with something between suspicion and warning.

We stand leaning against my car, watching Trick walk Lily toward her dorm.

She’s protesting, of course—arms crossed, chin tilted in that stubborn way she has—but she’s still letting him walk her to the door.

Our trip to the beach ran longer than planned, but it was worth it.

Lily spent hours with us without once cracking open a book, which for her is basically a miracle.

“Trick’s a good guy,” I say, shrugging like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

Bethany folds her arms tighter, her eyes locking on mine. The defiance in them could light a match.

“I’m aware,” she says. “But Lily’s not interested. Don’t force something on her she doesn’t want.”

“You’re protective of her,” I say quietly. I watch the dorm doors swing shut behind Lily and Trick, my gaze lingering longer than it should. The silence stretches, but my chest feels heavier with every passing second—like my heart just followed her inside .

Bethany steps closer, tracking my eyes before letting out a slow sigh.

“What are you doing, Justin?”

I don’t look at her, but I can still feel the heat of her stare boring into the side of my head. My sister’s always been like this—calling me out without mercy, knowing when I’m full of it before I even open my mouth.

“Bethany—”

“No,” she cuts me off, lifting a hand to silence me. “Lily is my friend. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

“That’s not my intention,” I say quickly.

“But that’s exactly what you’ll end up doing if you keep pushing her toward Trick.

She doesn’t want to be with him. She doesn’t want to be with anyone right now.

” Bethany’s tone softens. “She’s built herself this perfect, rigid plan, and she doesn’t allow for anything she can’t control.

But I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I know she’s scared of what that might mean—whatever the reason. Let her choose. In her own time.”

“He’s my best friend,” I say, swallowing the guilt that’s been sitting in my throat all night.

Bethany just shakes her head, glancing up as Trick emerges from the dorm with a spring in his step.

“You’re not doing either of them any favors,” she says.

“He’s my best friend,” I repeat, but my voice sounds thinner this time.

She gives me a look that’s all razor edges. “He might be your best friend, but Lily’s mine. And I will do whatever I have to do to protect her.”

Trick jogs toward us, grinning like the night’s been his personal victory lap. “We good?” he asks.

I nod, pulling Bethany into a quick one-armed hug before slipping into the driver’s seat .

“I kissed her, man,” he says as we pull out onto the narrow drive that winds across campus. His voice is light, smug.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. He wasn’t gone long. What kind of kiss was it? How far did he push?

“You move fast,” I say, forcing the words past the knot in my chest. It’s too soon—for him to be kissing her, for me to be thinking about her like this, for anything that’s brewing between us. But control has always been my thing, and Lily Snow is shaking it loose in ways I can’t explain.

“She tastes like cherries,” he says suddenly.

The comment catches me off guard. We don’t kiss and tell, not like this. Something’s different about Lily, and it’s not just me who feels it. Does he sense it too? Or is this just his way of reminding me she’s already claimed territory?

“What is it?” he asks when I don’t reply.

“What?”

“I told you she tastes like cherries.”

The smart move is to pretend I didn’t hear him. Pretend I’m not affected. Pretend she’s just another name I’ll forget tomorrow. Because the truth—the real truth—is that Lily Snow isn’t just a girl.

She’s an assignment.

And in my world, you don’t screw up assignments. No matter how much you want to.

“Who?” I say flatly, eyes on the road, already locking my mask into place.