My jaw flexes. “What did you do?”
She blinks, feigning innocence. “Do? Nothing. I just said a few things. Harmless stuff.”
I turn to face her fully, voice low and dangerous. “Define harmless.”
Sasha smirks, fiddling with her hair. “I might’ve . . . hinted that you and I spent the night together.”
My chest tightens. “Youwhat?”
She shrugs. “It wasn’t a lie, technically. You were in my room.”
My eyes drop to her shirt,myshirt, and I realise she’s used my drunken state in her stupid war with Remi.
I rub a hand over my face, shame burning through me. “Nothing happened.”
She tilts her head, lips curving. “No, but she doesn’t know that, does she? Maybe it’ll knock her off that pedestal she’s put herself on.”
My temper spikes. “You think this is a game?” I growl. “You think watching her fall apart is funny?”
Sasha flinches but quickly recovers, crossing her arms. “Relax, Shadow. You were a mess last night, and I helped you. I told you to sleep it off before you said something you’d regret.”
“I was looking for her,” I say, the realisation twisting in my gut. “You stopped me.”
Her smirk falters. “You were drunk.”
“And you took full advantage so you could shove it in her face.” I take a step towards her, and her confidence falters completely. “You’ve had your fun,” I warn, voice low. “Now, stay the hell away from her. From me. From this.”
Sasha’s mouth opens, but I’ve already turned away. My focus shifts back to the tree, to Remi. I cross the yard, boots crunching over gravel.
When I reach her, I stop just short. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t move, but I can hear her breathing is ragged and uneven. “Remi,” I say quietly. She stiffens but doesn’t turn. “I didn’t . . .” I pause, dragging a hand through my hair. “Whatever Sasha said, it’s not what you think.”
A shaky laugh escapes her. “You two have been saying that a lot lately.” Her voice is cracked and small, but it still hits like a punch. I crouch beside her, trying to find her eyes, but she keeps them glued to the ground.
“She told you we slept together,” I say. “We didn’t.”
Her jaw tightens. “You were in her room.”
“I was drunk,” I admit. “Too drunk to think straight. Too drunk to talk to you without saying something I’d regret. She found me looking for you, told me to sleep it off.”
Remi lets out a slow breath, still not looking at me. “And you did.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “In her bed. Fully clothed. Nothing happened.”
“Apart from your shirt,” she whispers sadly.
Silence stretches between us. The wind moves through the branches above, carrying the faint smell of rain.
I reach out, my hand hovering near her arm. “You gotta believe me, Rem. I came looking for you. She stopped me before I could knock.”
“Why?” she asks finally, her voice barely a whisper. “Why’d you even bother?”
“Because I couldn’t sleep knowing you thought I didn’t give a shit.”
Her head lifts just enough for me to see her eyes, red, glassy, and full of something that looks a lot like heartbreak. “I don’t know what’s worse,” she murmurs, “you not caring, or you caring too late.”
The words hit harder than any punch I’ve ever taken. I sit back on my heels, the ache in my chest growing heavier by the second. “It’s all such a fucking mess,” I mutter. “Like we’ve both gone too far, and now . . .”
“Now, we can’t take it back,” she finishes, sounding defeated.
