The words hit Nolan deep, and I snatch them up instantly.
“Heartbreak, huh?” I’m all faux sympathy. “Is that why you’ve been brooding like an abandoned groom at the altar? Definitely explains the sad eyes. Guess she picked someone whodoesclose deals.”
Nolan stiffens. His jaw tightens. No words. Then he sets his drink down and walks away.
Jeremy’s head swivels to me. “Well. That escalated sexily.”
I stare at the space where he was. No retort. No final jab. Just silence.
I should feel victorious. On some level, I do. But the burn of triumph fades fast when Nolan turns the corner toward the elevators. What’s left behind feels sickening. Like I missed the mark, and hit something softer instead—something raw.
Because the look in his eyes before he turned away wasn’t ego. It was loss. And I know that look. I’vewornthat look.
It’s hollowed me out when I stood in an empty hospital room. It crept in when people stopped calling, when the world kept spinning, and I didn’t know how to keep up.
I wouldn’t wish that on any human, no matter how much I hated them.
My jab was reckless, and unthinking. I threw a punch, and I hit bone. And now Nolan“The Rate-Cutting Rat Bastard”isgone, walking away in a pair of polished Oxfords with my claw marks still in his pride and a deeper emotion I didn’t mean to touch.
CHAPTER 5
THERE IT GOES
NOLAN
I leavethe rooftop without a word.
The city howls past me, but none of it touches the static whipping around inside my chest.
Rishi trails behind me, quiet.
At the curb, I throw up a hand for a cab. One screeches over. Rishi gets in after me, slamming the door, bracing for turbulence.
The vinyl seat sticks to the back of my neck. The cab smells faintly of sweat and weed. My molars ache from how tightly I’m grinding them.
She hit me where it hurts.
The worst part?
I liked it—right up until I didn’t.
Rorie Adams, with her kill-shot eyes and venom-tipped voice. She met me, jab for jab, glare for glare.
For a few minutes, she became the punching bag I needed. And I must’ve been hers, too. But then she landed the hit of the fucking century. The one that split me open. If I hadn’t walked away, I would’ve bled out right there. Right in front of her. In front of everyone.
I can’t have that. So, I left.
Rishi breaks the silence with a sigh. “You gonna talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“You sure? Cause your face looks like someone just told you football was canceled forever.”
I stare out the window. The streetlights stretch across the glass like scars. “You gave her the kill shot.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, man,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking. It was the first time you’ve looked alive all night and it just slipped out.”
I don’t respond. I’m still replaying her words. That stare. The moment shesawme—and all my hurt, and my pain, and she twisted the knife anyway.
