At some point, I stop pressing down and just watch. Lila works with steady movements despite the gruesome nature of the task. When the wound is clean, she reaches for a tube of antibiotic cream.
“Are you a doctor?” I ask.
She doesn’t glance up. “I went to med school but never started my residency.” A wry smile tugs at her lips. “Much to myparents’ disappointment, I got a doctorate in physical therapy instead.”
“Why didn’t he want to go to the hospital?”
“Same reason he went to a business gala with his leg like this.” She smooths cream over the raw flesh with gentle fingers. “Not to disappoint his father. This is a small town. Everyone knows everything that happens.” She glances up at me, her grin turning sly. “For example, I’ve already heard three different versions of the story about Liam’s secret wife stashed away at his resort.”
My jaw drops.
Her smile widens. “Don’t worry.” She nods toward the corner where my wedding dress lies in a crumpled heap of dirty tulle and discarded underwear. “I won’t ask questions about the whole bridal situation.” She pauses, her eyes sparkling. “Unless you want me to.”
“I’m not his wife.” The words come out defensive. “And aren’t you his girlfriend?”
Lila grabs a packet of gauze with “non-stick” written in bold red letters on top and starts dressing the wound. “Best friend,” she says without looking up. “Since we were kids.”
“The kind where you’ve been secretly pining for each other for decades and are just waiting for a rainy night to confess your undying love? Or?—”
“Or,” she interrupts while she finishes securing the tape on the bandage, “the kind where I never got over my high school boyfriend, and he teases me endlessly about it. And he has never been in a serious relationship, and I tease him endlessly about it.”
She stands up and grabs a clean towel from the bathroom stack, laying it over the comforter before she lifts Liam’s leg back on the bed.
“We drunkenly kissed once, and it was like kissing my brother.” She makes a gagging gesture. “Which is really gross because I have a twin, and the idea of kissing Preston—bleagh.” Another exaggerated gag.
I laugh, the sound unfamiliar in my mouth. It’s been forever since I laughed; the burst loosens the tension that’s been coiling behind my ribs for days leading up to the wedding.
“Good to know. I’ll update his Yelp reviews,” I joke. Even if I suspect kissing this man wouldn’t give me fraternal feelings.
Lila snaps off her blue gloves with a sharp thwack, tossing them in a bin, and empties the basin into the toilet, flushing and then rinsing it under the shower.
When she comes back, she declares, “I’m starving. They make a delicious French toast here. Want one?”
“Actually, yeah,” I say, surprised that after the call with Matt and the doom impending over my life, I can still work up an appetite. But I didn’t finish my dinner and had nothing else to eat all day.
Lila grabs the phone’s receiver from the bedside table, unbothered by the fact that it’s three thirty in the morning, and orders breakfast.
“Don’t worry,” she says as she hangs up. “I’ll tell the staff not to charge this to the room.”
“I’m not worried. He’s footing the bill for all this.” I gesture at the opulent suite.
Her smile turns sly again. “Really? And how did you manage that?”
I shrug and can’t resist grinning back. “Blackmail, of course.”
Lila throws her head back, laughing. When she stops chortling, she watches me for a beat, then glances at the bed where Liam sleeps, boneless and snoring.
“So,” she says, casual but not careless, “are you sticking around?”
I don’t know what I’m doing next. My mind won’t settle; it’s spinning like the wind outside that keeps throwing rain against the windows.
I stare up at Lila. “I have no fucking clue.”
She nods, studying my face. “Well, I hope you do.” A pause. “I like you. We’re friends now.”
8
LIAM
