We didn’t share a single class. Not a problem. That would change this week. I’d already submitted a request for course adjustments. Being a King had perks. She wouldn’t be able to take a piss without me knowing about it.
By the time I got to calculus, my blood was still running hot.
The classroom buzzed with lazy conversation. A few people scrolled on their phones. Some hovered by desks, catching up on bullshit that didn’t matter.
Jax, Chase, and Theo had already claimed our usual spot in the back. They spread out, owning the place—because we did. We didn’t ask for space. We took it.
I dropped my bag beside Jax and stretched, pretending like I gave a damn about math.
“Everything good?”Jax asked, voice low. His broad shoulders took up more space than the other two.
He didn’t look at me, but his tone held weight. He felt the shift.
“Fine,”I said. It was a lie. But he didn’t push. He rarely did.
Chase shifted in his seat, stiffening beside me. His attention snapped to the doorway. That predatory stillness meant one thing—he saw something he didn’t like.
I followed his line of sight. Avery.My jaw ticked.
His sister walked in laughing, shoulder bumping against Mark Delaney’s like it belonged there. His hand hovered at her lower back.
Wrong move.
Jax caught the shift too. His mouth curved into something dangerous.“Problem with your sister talking to that guy?”
Chase tensed.“Mark’s not good enough for her.”
To us, no one was good enough for Avery, but her brother took that to extremes.
“Didn’t ask if he was good enough,”Jax said, voice calm but edged.“Asked if it was a problem.”
Chase muttered under his breath then stood like he was about to start something. Jax leaned back in his seat, amused.
I didn’t stop Chase. He could handle it. I had my own shit to deal with. Because Mila being back? That wasn’t a coincidence. No way had she returned without a reason.
Last time she saw me, my world was crumbling. My dad caught her mom in something—money, theft, who the hell knew. All I got were fragments and fury. My father said they ran because she was guilty. That her mom screwed us over and Mila helped.
And when she left without a word? I believed him. I let myself believe she was just like the rest—using me until it didn’t serve her anymore.
But now? Now she was back. And she didn’t get to pretend nothing had happened. She didn’t get to keep my secrets, disappear, then walk these halls like she hadn’t gutted me. This time, I’d make damn sure she stayed. And she would answer for what she did.
Seeing Mila knocked the air out of me. And it only got worse when I caught her bare neck—no chain, no star pendant. Just skin where her promise used to sit.
She wore it every damn day. Swore she never took it off. That it reminded her we were real, even when everything else felt fake.
And now? Gone.
I hadn’t thought about that night in months—no. That was bullshit. I thought about it every day. Just got better at burying it under everything else. Practice, school, meaningless hookups.
But seeing her now, seeing her without it? That chain wasn’t just missing. It was a declaration.
The necklace she’d returned was still in my hand when I got back to my room the night she left. Silver, thin, delicate—but heavy in ways that had nothing to do with weight. The charm caught the overhead light like it didn’t know it had been gutted of meaning.
My mind tripped back to when she left it for me with no explanation. No goodbye. Just slipped it into my hockey bag before an away game and walked away. Didn’t even look back.
When I realized she was gone, that leaving the necklace with me was her goodbye, I stood there, a dumbass, fingers curling around the last piece of her I had, wondering if I should throw it. Smash it. Melt it down and forget she ever wore it.
My brother Drew found me. Door half open. Bottle of whiskey dangling from my hand and half gone. Me standing in the middle of the room with my knuckles white around a broken promise.
