The words hang sharp between us. Callum lets out a low chuckle, the sound unbothered, slightly amused, even. The darker haired guy finally turns, his gaze locking on mine with the weight of a storm cloud.
“If you think you’re worth waiting on,” he says flatly, “I’ll add arrogance to the list of descriptors for you.”
His words hit deeper than I want them to, stinging hot under my skin. Recklessness leaps up in their wake, sharp and defiant within me.
I don’t know why I care to defend my character to this jerk, but I can’t hold it back.
“Funny,” I snap, my chin lifting, “because despite your earlier conclusions of me, apparently I am important enough to stay late for. Ms. Tomlinson not only stayed, but she’s pushing for me to be accepted into NYU. Full ride. Guess I’ve got more value than you’re able to see.”
The silence that follows isn’t triumphant. It lands heavy and almost bruising as Callum’s easy grin falters, his mouth parting slightly before he looks away, jaw ticking. The other one’s stare sharpens, but not with the same smug certainty as before. The weight of something unspoken passes between them as they share a look. For the first time since meeting them, I sense my barb landed somewhere I hadn’t intended.
“Then enjoy the slot my brother and I likely freed up,” Callum mutters, voice low and tinged with a raw grief. “Glad someone gets to have our dream.”
The words knock the air right out of me. His voice isn’t mocking, instead it’s laced with a pain I wasn’t expecting, the kind that sinks deep before you realize it’s cut you open.
And then I remember. The pieces slide into place as I recall the conversation I overheard before I shoved between them earlier. About the uncle who used his connections to block their acceptance.
Their dreams are being strangled by family, just like mine.
Guilt creeps in, sharp under my ribs. I hadn’t meant to throw my good fortune in their faces, not when they’re standing here gutted by the very thing I just boasted about.
For once, I don’t have a snarky comeback. Just the weight of their eyes turning back to me and the quiet understanding thatmaybe I’m not the only one in this world that isn’t as free as they want to be.
CHAPTER 5
BRIAR
Idon’t know how to bridge the silence growing between the three of us without making it worse, but my tongue betrays me before my brain can stop it.
“I heard what you said earlier,” I blurt, the confession scraping out like shards of glass dragging through my throat. “About your uncle not supporting you.”
The broody one’s jaw flexes, and I can practically feel his irritation slice across the space to land in my chest. “Those weren’t your words to hear.”
I flinch, heat climbing up my neck to my cheeks. He’s right, but I can’t just unhear them.
“Well, for what it’s worth…” my voice dips, quieter now, and stripped of the bite I’ve thrown their way consistently. “My family doesn’t want me here either. Not at this school. Not in this city. They think I’m insane for even dreaming about it.”
The silence stretches. Then, almost imperceptibly, there is a shift. His shoulders loosen, and while his gaze on me is still heavy, it no longer packs the same judgment. It lingers instead, steady and searching, as if he’s weighing me on some scale I can’t see.
My pulse stumbles as the edge of his stare softens, the heat of newfound interest flickering low in my belly.
And just like that, I’m seeing firsthand why I keep letting myself be drawn to jerks. All I needed was this small glimpse of softness from him and suddenly my mind wonders what else lingers beneath the broody attitude and insults. As if I will somehow be the chosen one that is let in and can fix the jagged little pieces someone left behind in him.
His gaze holds mine a second too long, steady enough that I feel pinned in place. His eyes are darker than I realized under the streetlight, rimmed in navy so deep it’s almost black, and the intensity in them makes it hard to breathe.
I should look away, but I can’t.
Then Callum shifts on the bench, breaking the spell as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The streetlight cuts shadows over the planes of his face, and there’s a spark in his bright blue eyes that says he’s enjoying himself far too much. The edge of a grin tugs at his mouth and I preemptively roll my eyes, preparing for what’s about to come from him.
The dichotomy between these two is truly astounding.
A traitorous part of my brain whispers, “You secretly love it.”
“Well, isn’t this fun?” he drawls, glancing between us. “My brother is staring at you like an enigma and you are clearly enjoying it. Honestly this feels like foreplay, and I can’t say that I’m not a fan of it.”
My heart flutters at that. Hearing Callum’s perspective of the situation makes it feel more real, like I’m not just creating the scenario and feelings in my mind. It’s palpable.
“Elias never–”
