Page 21 of Creeping Lily

JUSTIN

E veryone has an agenda when it comes to Lily Snow.

Everyone.

Even me.

The difference is, not everyone’s agenda is as clean on the surface. Some are obvious—others, like Goliath’s, are buried under layers of convenient lies.

They told me Lily was a “priority” target. Someone they had to protect at all costs.

The story went like this: her wealthy family was concerned for her safety and wanted her shadowed without her knowing.

What a load of crap.

I wasn’t born yesterday, and I wasn’t born poor either.

I grew up around people who could weaponize a dinner party, who could smile while bleeding you dry.

I know the smell of bullshit when it’s right in front of me, and this?

This reeks. Lily is nothing like the pedigree princess they’re making her out to be.

And that’s fine by me. Money doesn’t impress me—my father always said everyone starts somewhere. Whether that “somewhere” is a high-rise penthouse or a basement apartment, it’s what you build that counts .

No, what I don’t understand is why Goliath wants her under a microscope. Why she’s on their radar at all.

And that curiosity?

It’s enough to keep me in this for the long haul.

Because the day might come when Lily doesn’t need protecting from whoever’s out there… she might need protecting from Goliath.

I watch her slip away from the table, the sway of her hair catching the strobe lights, before dropping back into my seat.

My hand scrubs down my face. Truth is, I find her intoxicating.

She’s sweet and innocent in ways that clash with the rest of my world—light against my shadow.

But she’s also more than that: she’s sharp and stubborn, the kind of girl who could walk into a room and disarm everyone without meaning to.

Fire and ice. Storm and calm. The kind you’d introduce to your mother and your crew, knowing both would approve.

And beneath all that? Secrets.

The only problem? Trick saw her first.

I know she’s not interested in him—she’s told me so herself—but I can’t bring myself to step in. The guy’s my best friend. Going after her now would be like driving a knife between us. So I’ve been trying to push them together, giving him every shot I can. But she won’t bite.

Trick says she just doesn’t know what she wants yet. That she’ll come around. I’m not convinced. But until I know for sure, I’m stuck in the waiting game.

On the dance floor, Trick is moving with Wendolyn. His body’s stiff, like every touch from her is a bad fit. His eyes keep scanning until—there—he spots Lily. And just like that, Wendolyn loses him. She notices, of course. Hooks her fingers in his jaw and pulls his attention back to her.

It won’t work.

Trick’s too far gone on Lily to see anyone else .

When fifteen minutes pass since Lily vanished toward the restrooms, concern starts to flow through my veins. My phone feels heavy in my hand before I finally set it down, a knot forming in my chest.

I yank Bethany away from the guy she’s practically swallowing whole and send her to check.

“She’s not here,” she says, stepping back out of the restroom with an annoyed shrug.

It’s not like Lily to just disappear… but then again, this isn’t really her scene.

I start searching. Eventually, I find her outside—sitting on the top step beyond the alley exit. The night air clings to her bare arms, goosebumps dotting her skin.

“Lily?”

She looks up slow, like she’s waking from a dream, or maybe a nightmare. “What are you doing out here in the cold?”

I drop down beside her. She stares into the dark, her focus miles away.

“Air,” she says simply.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is soft, but her eyes look hollow.

It’s freezing and she’s sitting here like she doesn’t feel it. It makes me wonder if she’s gone numb inside too.

“Come on,” I say, standing and slipping my hands under her arms to lift her. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

Her fingers are like ice when they slide into mine. It sets something heavy in my gut.

“Did something happen?” I ask quietly as we walk.

She shakes her head, but the way she avoids my eyes says otherwise. Lily doesn’t go quiet unless she’s hiding something.

Bethany intercepts us before I can press further, scolding Lily for missing all the “fun.” We slow as the crowd thins, an open space forming on the dance floor .

And there he is.

Trick. Standing dead center, eyes locked on our hands, betrayal etched across his face.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I say, trying for the tenth time to explain to Trick. We’re leaning against the car, and Trick has a cigarette pressed between his lips as he eyeballs me suspiciously. He stopped smoking a year ago.

“I get it, man. Okay? Lily’s gorgeous. Which red blooded male wouldn’t be interested in her?”

I have a hard time trying to convince him that there’s nothing going on between Lily and me.

He tries to let me off easy, but I know he’s having a difficult time buying it.

Not that I owe him an explanation. Our past dictates that his trust in me should be unwavering.

He doesn’t have the right to be second guessing me now.

“It’s not like that,” I repeat. “She was sitting outside in the cold, upset about something. Afraid. I just walked her back in and she took my hand. You know how Lily gets around crowds of people.”

He nods his head knowingly. He knows. I know. She doesn’t deal very well with crowds and would rather be anywhere but here tonight.

“What was wrong with her?”

“She wouldn’t say. But Lily’s a small-town girl, Trick; she’s private like that.”

He scrunches up his face in confusion, then sucker punches me with his words.

“Do you think it’s because I was dancing with Wendolyn?”

That’s the last thing I expect him to say but leave it to Trick to decide Lily really does have feelings for him.

But I can’t bring myself to tell him that Lily couldn’t give a flying fuck who he dances with.

I can’t break his heart like that, even though Lily already has.

I start to think enough time has passed with him trying that he should understand by now that Lily isn’t interested. He’s not usually so daft.

“I don’t know why Lily was upset, Trick. She wouldn’t tell me. You know how closed off she is.”

“But yet, she felt safe enough with you to hold your hand,” he mulls, looking at me thoughtfully.

I flick my cigarette across the gravel and fix him with a dark glare, fed up with all the shade he’s throwing my way.

“We’re friends, Trick. That’s what friends do; they look out for each other,” I tell him, before I push off the door and walk away.