“No,” she deadpanned. “He didn’t. I comped it. And I’m not covering your ass again.”
I swore under my breath.
Thalia didn’t flinch. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
She tilted her head. “You’ve got that look again.”
“What look?” I snapped back.
“The ‘I’m chasing something dangerous and pretending I won’t get burned’ look.”
I laughed, sharp and hollow. “I’m always chasing something dangerous.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, softer now. “But usually youenjoythe ride.”
That hit harder than I expected. The truth always did when it smacked you in the face. Like learning your parents didn’t love or want you at the age of eight. Some shit dug its claws in, slowly shredding you apart piece by piece the longer you allowed yourself to feel.
That’s why I didn’t do feelings. Didn’t do emotions. I locked them in a box and buried them in a dark vault inside my mind. The heart had no place in my life.
She stepped closer, searching my face like she was trying to decode something written in a language she didn’t want to learn. “This time it looks like it’seating you alive,Sin.”
I looked away. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’ve got it handled.”
“Like you handled your last fuck-up?” she snapped, then immediately regretted it. I saw it in her face. “Shit. Sorry.”
I forced a grin. “It’s cute that you care.”
“Don’t deflect.”
“Seriously, T, I’m good. I know what I’m doing.”
She didn’t believe me. Smart girl.
“I’ve never seen you doubt yourself before,” she said quietly. “Never seen you let someonemake you small.”
That got to me.
Because Ididfeel small. Smaller every time Theo looked at me like he was about to kiss me, only to shove me away a second later. Every time I gave him my mouth, my hands. He chipped away a piece of me every time he touched me. It hurt more than I’d ever admit when all he gave me was shame.
I smirked anyway. Because that’s what I was good at. Faking it. Pretending nothing got to me. Acting like everything was a glancing blow.
“Some people are just worth the bruises.”
Thalia huffed, lips parting like she was going to say something. But I walked away before she could see how deep her words had cut—how easily she’d peeled me open.
I shook my head and dragged in a sharp, unsteady breath. My hands trembled, so I shoved them into my pockets and curled my fingers into fists. I didn’t let people get to me. I didn’t let themmatter.
This was exactly why.
You open the door even an inch, and they walk right in with muddy boots, stomp all over the things you don’t talk about, and leave you there—naked in the ruins.
If you let someone close, theycouldhurt you. If you let someone in, theywould.
