"What now?" I snap.
He shrugs, still staring.
"Nothing. Just… Jesus. Slow the fuck down. It’s not a street race. Stop trying so hard to prove something."
"Rava, you were literally fixing your hair for ten minutes, andI’mthe one trying to prove something?"
"I didn’t do it for you."
"Never said you did. But you’re awfully defensive."
"I’mnotdefensive."
"Cool. Then shut your mouth."
Lorenzo fake coughs.
"Foreplay. Literal foreplay. I’m watching porn with clothes on."
"I won’t shut up just becauseyousaid so. There’s nothing between us." Rava says immediately.
"Thank God," I mutter. "Can’t imagine anything worse."
"Same," he snaps. "You’re literally the last person I’d ever look at like that."
"You looked last night."
"I was literally just zoning out."
"You were zoning into my mouth."
Lorenzo claps once. "Okay! That was hot. I’m sweating. You two are two insults away from fucking in the backseat."
Rava scoffs. "You’re delusional, Gio."
"Right," I shoot back.
"Because the way you looked at me during the last meeting wastotallyplatonic. Accidental eye contact, my ass."
"I literally looked at you the same way I look at traffic lights. Impatient and waiting to leave."
"Oh my God," Lorenzo groans. "Just have sex already and let me out of this threesome of denial, PLEASE."
Okay. Cool. Time to shut the fuck up.
I can’t keep doing this. I’m too shit at pretending. Sure, I can flirt, joke, snap back and act like I don’t give a fuck.
But inside? Inside I’m screaming. Constantly.
So yeah.
No more. No more fake fights. No more sharp comments just to get a rise out of him.
I’m done. I’ll accept my fate like a goddamn mature adult.
I won’t have him. I won’t get to have him.
And I have to live with that. Sit with it. Let it rot in my ribs.
