I groan into my hands.
“Ror, be serious,” Jeremy says, setting his drink down. “This back-and-forth you’re doing? Exhausting. You keep calling him the enemy. But that doesn’t make what you two have any less… cosmic.”
I blink. “Cosmic?”
He points at me. “Yes. The man literally sent you a galaxy in a box.”
Heat rises in my cheeks.
“For the day you met. Not when you first kissed, or when you humped him in a bathroom or had your little emotional fire drill. It was the day yousteppedinto his life. Tell me that’s not some next-level shit.”
I go quiet.
Jeremy lowers his voice, serious now. “Rorie… you have this glass shard wedged inside you that people leave you when you become too much. And Nolan? He just did it earlier than most. Preemptive exit. But that doesn’t make him a monster—it makes him scared. According to Rishi, someone left him too. Don’t forget that.”
Pain flares up in my chest. I shift in my seat and exhale, trying tojoke, trying to rise above the sting. “Okay, now I hate you for being right.”
Jeremy just gives a small smile. “Yeah, well. Hate me all you want. But don’t ignore it. Stop punishing him for the wayeveryone elsehandled your heart. You want him? Fight. Forgive. Or, at the very least, fuck him and get it out of your damn system.”
I scoff, cross my arms. “The elevated alcohol content in these drinks is getting to you, Jer.”
“Not fast enough,” he replies, raising his drink in a toast then leaning back against the lounger. “God chose me to be the little matchmaker this story needs. Now go. Open that damn door. And either fall in love or ruin his life with some throw-him-off-his-axis, detonate-his-soul, rearrange-his-outlook-on-life high level fucking. Preferably both.”
I burst out laughing—part horrified, part hysterical. “You’re actuallyinsane.That’s not happening.”
Jeremy’s attention snaps back to me. “Then stop bitching about it.”
I blink. “Wow. Harsh love today.”
He shrugs. “Truth serum comes with the umbrella drink. Did you even hear a word I said?”
My brow furrows.
“Look, I get it. You’re playing it safe. Strategizing. Trying to be ten steps ahead. But not everything can be mapped out. Some things you just have to feel your way through.”
I go still.
He looks me dead in the eye. “Don’t let fear make the call.”
A tirade of emotions forms in my brain when my phone buzzes with a new message from Carl. Er, Nolan.
I know things ended kind of weird between us, and I want to respect your space. Just checking in. Hope you’re okay.
The words slam into me. I stare at his message longer than I should, thumb hovering over the screen. Answering would set something dangerous in motion.
And there’s this massive, suffocating secret lodged in my chest. It’seating me alive. It’s not just the texts anymore. It’s him. Nolan. And the guilt has become a constant ache, insistent and impossible to ignore.
My eyes drift across the patio—automatically, stupidly—and land on him.
Nolan’s staring down at his phone, brows furrowed, expression grim. He’s waiting. He’s hoping.
And for a second, I wonder if he knows. If he feels it too, that secret between us, straining with the pressure of a thread pulled too tight, vibrating under every choice I’ve made since this whole thing started.
Responding would pull the thread loose. Once it unravels it won’t just be the secret that comes undone.
It’ll beme.
There are consequences to texting him back.
