I swallow hard, running my hands down my thighs, suddenly nervous. I hate this feeling: being unsure, off balance. But there’s no going back now.
“I’ve kissed them,” I admit.
This time, his reaction is noticeable. A sharp inhale, a flicker of something unreadable in his gray eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
I don’t know what I expected. Anger? Frustration? A sign that it actuallymattersto him?
Instead, he exhales long and slow. “And?”
I blink. “And?” I repeat. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do youwantme to say, Mia?” His voice is even, but there’s an edge to it now.
“I don’t know,” I admit, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “That you care? That you’re pissed? That you—” I stop myself, shaking my head. “Forget it.”
He watches me, eyes dark and unreadable. Then finally, he says, “I don’t have the luxury of jealousy.”
The words settle in my chest like lead. For the first time, I see it—the way he’s holding himself back. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he thinks hecan’t. Because Damon Marlow doesn’t allow himself to want things he can’t protect.
I step closer, searching his face. “What if Iwantyou to be jealous?”
“Then you’re playing a dangerous game, Mia.”
A small, humorless smile tugs at my lips. “Seems to be a pattern with me.”
God, what the hell am I even saying? What am Ithinking?
“This was a mistake,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Forget I said anything?—”
“Mia,” he says, my name rough in his throat.
I hold up a hand, desperate to save face. “No, really. I—I shouldn’t have?—”
His eyes darken, something shifting in his stance. “You’ve been with them,” he says.
My throat tightens. “Yes.”
His gaze drops slightly before flicking back up to mine. “And now you’re standing here, tellingmeyou don’t want to choose.”
I swallow hard, hands curling into fists. “I?—”
Damon steps forward, slow and deliberate. “You wantallof us.”
The way he says it makes my stomach flip. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
His eyes search mine, as if waiting for me to take it back. To deny it.
But I don’t.
Ican’t.
Damon exhales, running a hand through his hair. He looks away, jaw tight, muscles tense.
“Do they know?” Damon asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
Something flickers in his gaze. “Then tell them.” And with that, he walks away.
