Hadley sits across from me, studying me like she’s trying to decode something. She can try. All my shit’s locked down tighter than a tick’s ass.
“Why did you do it?”
I just look at her because that’s a loaded fucking question.
“Care to clarify?” I ask cautiously.
“Kiss him. Why?”
I ease back in the creaky kitchen chair. Of all the things she could’ve asked, this one is the easiest to lie about.
“It was a dare, Hadley. That’s all.”
“You had a choice. You could’ve kissed a girl.” She argues, tone clipped.
“Are you homophobic now?” I ask, eyebrow raised. I’m not sure where she stands on queer relationships, but after she helped shove Cullen in the closet, I have a guess.
She doesn’t answer. Just repeats, “Why?”
“Because that chick skeeved me out,” I say casually. “Pretty sure she had a cold sore.”
Hadley’s eyes are ice, and I can’t tell if she buys it.
“I’m sorry if me kissing Cull upset you, but it was just a dare. We were drunk, and no one gave a shit. It was harmless.”
Her cold expression falters. When she speaks again, there’s the smallest hint of vulnerability. “You swear that’s all it was?”
Fuck.Maybe she sees more than she lets on. But I’m not about to confirm anything. “Yeah. Just a dumb dare.”
She exhales heavily and pushes up from the table. “I’m going to Maggie’s. Mom and Dad are off playing pickleball with the Andersons. No clue when they’ll be back.” She heads for the door. The moment it opens, I hear her scoff, then mutter something snarky and slam it shut.
I turn in my seat when I hear footsteps coming through the kitchen doorway. My heartbeat picks up like it always does when I see Cullen, like a happy dog wagging its tail. But it drops out of my ass the moment I clock his blank expression.
He said he loved me last night. He’s not here to end things.
The thought crossed my mind last night that he may realize I’m too much to handle. Him ending things felt like a real possibility until I got that text.
“Hey.” His voice is neutral, giving nothing away.
“Hi.” I’m shocked how steady I sound, considering my insides are whirring like a category five hurricane.
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah, of course.” I gesture to the empty seat across from me. He sits, but he may as well be on the opposite end of the planet. That’s how much space his energy puts between us.
“I’m upset with you.”
“I know.”
“You hurt me.”
I nod, swallowing down the panic tightening in my throat.
“It felt like a betrayal.”
That one lands like a bullet. But I take it. I deserve it.
“It wasn’t my intention,” I say, emotion thick in my throat.
