“You’re lying,” he says. “And I’m going to find out why.”
I smile drunkenly, leaning my head back as the light turns green.
“You won’t.”
He accelerates, breath tight, jaw clenched hard enough to crack.
And the whole way home, the car is full of everything we’re not saying—anger, fear, jealousy, secrets
Kai.
Kai.
Kai.
—and the sound of Noah’s breathing getting louder as mine gets quieter.
The car barely stops before Noah slams his door so hard the echo rattles through the stone driveway like thunder.
Cold night air hits me in a slap as I stumble out, heels clacking unevenly against the ground. The mansion looms above us—perfect lines, perfect windows, perfect life—everything gleaming under moonlight like it’s judging me.
Good.
Let it judge me.
I’m drunk enough not to care.
Noah storms ahead, his shoulders rigid, his stride clipped and violent. He doesn’t look back to see if I’m following.
He knows I will.
He also knows I’m too dizzy to run.
I trip on the last step and catch myself on the railing, laughing loudly enough to slice the silence open.
“Oh relax,” I call after him. “You act like I set the place on fire.”
He whirls around so fast I almost lose my balance again.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
His voice shakes.
With anger.
With something darker underneath.
“You humiliated me in front of half the damn city!”
I drag a hand through my hair, stumble forward.
“I humiliated myself,” I correct, grinning sloppily. “Keep your pronouns to yourself, baby.”
His nostrils flare.
He steps toward me.
Too fast.
