Page 10 of Second Position (Astor Hill #2)

Gen

The stuffy air of the department store mixing with the numerous perfumes lingering in the air is nauseating, but it reminds me of the first time we did this. We were just fourteen, and Will had asked me to our freshman homecoming dance.

I’d overheard these girls on the soccer team talking about me; said they knew if Will didn’t ask me to the dance out of pity, no one would.

They basically complained about how annoying it was that I existed, and I only told Will after one of them gave me the nastiest look of my life in the hallway before shoving me into my locker.

So the next day he stood outside of my seventh period, an obnoxiously large white poster board in his hands that said “WILL YOU GO TO HOMECOMING WITH ME?” in thick black sharpie, Lily Allen’s “Fuck You” blaring on a portable speaker—his version of that scene from Say Anything , I guess.

I’m positive my heart stopped beating, I was so embarrassed.

But he was smiling this bright, amused smile, and when I looked at those girls, they were bright red.

Literally couldn’t look at him or me, because they knew he knew.

And Will’s always been the kind of person whose approval you wanted; I just knew it had to have stung.

We went home, and he took me to Bergdorf’s.

We’ve done it every year since, so here we are again—playing dress up.

Will is in the fitting room to the right of the couch I’m camped out on, the numerous shopping bags scattered around me full of the spoils of our shopping trip.

The door swings open and Will comes out, a velvet blazer perfectly tailored to fit his athletic frame.

“Thoughts?” He holds his arms out wide, turning slowly so I can get a full view of his outfit.

He’s handsome, so handsome that the shop associates have been fawning over him since the moment we walked in, showering him with a constant barrage of compliments.

The only benefit is that one of them, in her mid to late sixties, brought us water bottles and snacks that I’ve been working my way through.

I give Will my best meh face as the younger sales associate—very busty, very blonde—dusts the invisible lint off Will’s shoulder.

“This suit was made for you.” Her voice is overly flirty and the way she’s gripping his bicep is a little inappropriate. I turn my nose up in disgust and Will clears his throat, looking at me in that apologetic way he always does when an absurdly beautiful woman is throwing herself at him.

“Gen?” he probes. The blonde lets go of his arm, still smiling until she turns and faces me, her mouth falling into a sneer.

I bite the inside of my cheek, scanning him. Will is handsome in everything. It doesn’t take much for him to look good. But him in a suit—it’s enough to make any girl swoon. All that to say, I don’t necessarily blame the girl for the daggers she’s currently sending me.

“The velvet is a bit too costumey in my opinion. Maybe something more classic?”

Will nods and disappears back into the dressing room.

“Let me know if you need any help in there.” The associate's voice is all sex as she saunters away just before giving me a wink. I clench my jaw and look down at a text from Grant, my cheeks growing hot.

“Who’s that?” Will’s standing in front of me in a deep black tuxedo jacket looking like a young James Bond.

It takes everything in me to not audibly gulp, and based on the smile now plastered on his face, my attraction is palpable.

“I thought this might be the one,” he adds, turning and looking at himself in the full length mirror.

“Who’ve you been texting all day, Genny?

” He turns back to me, taking off the suit jacket and tossing it on the couch beside me.

His hands work at the buttons on his shirt.

“You know there’s a dressing room for that?” I raise one eyebrow and point toward the door behind him.

Will’s smile grows. “And miss an opportunity to see you squirm?” I throw one of the balled up ties the sales associates laid out for him at his face and he catches it with ease, laughing. “Seriously, though, your eyes have been glued to that thing all day.”

I bite my lip and contemplate telling him the truth for a second.

Will is my best friend, and I tell him everything.

But this…this feels different. Not only because he’s never once liked any guy who's given me an ounce of attention but because it’s Grant.

Something about him has always intimidated Will.

It’s a subject I’ve steered clear of because it always puts him in a foul mood, but now that I’ve spoken mo re than a few words to Grant I can’t help but wonder why he dislikes him so much.

I thank god when the annoying shop girl returns holding two pairs of loafers for Will to try on.

“I guessed your size,” she giggles, giving him the most obvious bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen. I can’t help but snort. The blonde narrows her eyes in my direction, but I’m looking at Will who is also trying not to laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, sucking in a forced breath to regain his composure. “I think I’m good in the shoe department, though.” He hands her his jacket. “Can you ring this piece up?”

It’s as if her entire body is set aflame, her embarrassment coming off her in waves at the way Will refuses to flirt back.

She nods and I note how she doesn’t glance my direction.

Will moves back into the changing room and quickly throws back on the outfit he came in—a casual pair of jeans and a crewneck.

My gaze catches on every part of him. Even in a simple outfit, he has a way of looking like a Ralph Lauren model.

Like he’s just come back from a day of sailing, all sun-kissed and perfectly windswept.

It truly is a wonder that this is just how he looks everyday.

“Ready?” he asks, waiting for me to walk ahead of him.

As we exit, he very politely lets the sales associates know we’re going to look around the department store a bit longer.

I can tell by the sheer amount of them crowding the service desk that the blonde told her coworkers about Will.

He gives them one of his half smiles, the one he knows is the perfect mixture of charisma and mystery, and I can practically hear them swooning as we walk away.

I’m not really sure how Olivia deals with this—Will’s complete inability to shut something down. I realize it’s harmless, but it bothers me . It feels like he blatantly invites this attention. Maybe it’s why she doesn’t do things like this with him.

We finally make it to the women's section and I begin combing through the racks, searching for a dress to wear to the gala.

Will holds up a tiny purple dress and raises an eyebrow.

The piece of fabric would barely cover my ass.

I would have more coverage if I wore a leotard. I give him a pensive look.

“I think the suit is more your style, no?”

He cracks a smile.

“You never wear anything I choose. Just this once. Just try it on.” His eyes are pleading and he’s giving me this pouty face like he’s a little boy and I just told him he couldn’t get the toy he wanted.

“No,” I deadpan, and he guffaws loudly, putting the dress back on the rack but he’s smiling nonetheless.

I move beside him and I elbow him playfully.

“Seriously, help me find something to wear to this thing.” I pass my hand through a row of sequined atrocities, wondering if we should try a different store.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, you’d look gorgeous in a brown sack,” he says quietly and I feel my stomach somersault.

“Have a feeling brown sack isn’t going to cut it,” I tell him, the apples of my cheeks burning, as I suck in a breath in an attempt to change the subject. “Are we going to talk about Ben being back?”

His face goes blank and I can instantly tell he was not planning on discussing it today. “There’s nothing to talk about. He’s back. We are co-captains. That’s that.” His jaw is clenched as his eyes laser in on each garment his fingers push past.

“Will…” I grab his wrist as he moves for the next ha nger and he stills, refusing to meet my eyes before letting out a long defeated sigh.

“I knew he was going to come back…” He begins shuffling back through the rack in an attempt to distract his hands.

My eyes pinch and I stare up at him puzzled.

He must sense my confusion because he finally looks at me.

“I mean, I didn't know, know . I just assumed.” He pushes a few more of the dresses to the side farthest from him before resolution crosses his features, like he is up for talking after all. “You know what’s fucked up, though? I was planning on just forgiving him.”

“Forgiving him?” My breath hitches, because honestly to me, what Ben did after Lily died was unforgivable.

The way he saw a grenade blow up in his brother's hands and didn’t even pause to give it a second glance, to see where the pieces shattered.

His only brother’s first love died completely out of nowhere and the same night he disappears, can’t even pick up the phone to check in.

“Yeah—part of me thought he was coming back to make things right. Apologize for just leaving like that…” He shrugs it off but I can tell he’s upset; his entire posture changes, his shoulders turning inward just slightly, eyebrows pinched and I feel that familiar need to comfort him.

“I think he might have a thing for Olivia.”

I wrinkle my nose subconsciously at the idea of Olivia sneaking around with Will’s brother.

“He wouldn’t do that to you, Will.” He looks at me hard, and for a second I can see a wish flicker in his eyes, one that begs for me to be right, for his brother to not be the kind of person who would be that selfish. But it’s just that, a flicker.