“I’m not talking about from Elise and her rumor train. I talked to my brother. He said something about Luke and you looking pretty close, intense and not in a fighting way, while you were talking. You sure you’re good?”
My throat closed. I hesitated. “It didn’t mean anything.” My voice was flat. “Letting him anywhere near me was a mistake.”
She glanced at me, judgment soft. “You sure, Mila?”
I offered her a small, tight smile. “I’m sure,” I told her, before escaping to my car and home. Of course, Mom wasn’t there. But she wouldn’t be, not when it was still during work hours. I exhaled a relieved breath the second my door closed. My backpack fell with a thud at my feet, and I flopped onto my bedwhere the almost-kiss replayed in my mind, a film stuck on one frame.
I rolled to my side, eyes landing on the nightstand drawer where my sketchbook hid. The urge to pull it out—to catch that frame before it faded, the sharp cut of his jaw, the heat in his eyes—slammed into me hard enough to ache.
But sketching him would make it real. Permanent. Dangerous.
So I stayed frozen, denying myself the only outlet that ever gave me more than clawing through survival.
His lips. Close. His breath on mine. How close he came.We still could. I shook it off, cold water on my skin. I couldn’t let myself sink again. Because if I let myself fall—I might never find the ground.
I closed my eyes, willing the heat behind them to cool. Wanting him was walking barefoot through broken glass—every step closer just promised blood.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LUKE
The locker room stank—stale sweat and unspoken grudges clinging to the walls. I yanked my shirt over my damp hair and shut my locker with more force than necessary. It echoed, but no one called me on it.
Mila hadn’t said a word when I walked her back to Avery at the bonfire. Just that unreadable look in her eyes—uncertain if I was her enemy or her last line of defense. Hell, maybe I didn’t know either.
“King.” Jax tossed a rolled-up sock at my chest. “You planning to glare at the lockers all day or join the rest of us in pretending this place doesn’t suck?”
I caught the sock midair. “Funny.”
Chase leaned against the bench across from me, arms folded. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. You’re glowing as always.”
Theo snorted. “Seriously though. You gonna tell us what’s up or keep brooding until you combust?”
I shrugged. “Nothing’s up.”
“I call bullshit,” Jax muttered.
He wasn’t wrong. Practice had been brutal. I’d pushed harder than anyone—faster drills, heavier hits, sharper checks. Coach didn’t say much, just narrowed his eyes and let me work it out on the ice. He knew better than to ask. Everyone did. Except my crew.
I dropped onto the bench and leaned forward, elbows on my knees, voice low. “Logan couldn’t take his eyes off her in gym class.”
Jax swore. Chase’s posture went still.
“Something’s brewing.” Elise’s smirk when I walked past her told me more than she probably wanted me to know.
“He touch her again?” Chase asked.
“No.” My voice was flat. Final. “He won’t.”
We all knew that wasn’t the end of it, though. Not with Elise whispering in ears and Logan acting as if he had something to prove. The two of them were toxic as hell. And Mila was their favorite target because she didn’t flinch. She made them look small just by standing tall. And because Elise thought Mila had something that should’ve been hers—me.
“I think it’s time we do something,” Jax said.
I looked up. “It is. What are you thinking?”
“We need to put Logan in his place.” Jax’s eyes narrowed. “Publicly.”
