Not broken.
Not dramatic. Not fragile. Not too much.
Something inside me gives with a quiet, painful snap. This time it isn’t panic clawing its way up. It’s something messier. Less contained.
I blink hard, angry at myself for being this close to tears over a sentence that simple.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
It feels insufficient. Inadequate.
He nods once, like he understands that too. “Anytime.”
I don’t let myself believe it. I’ve learned better.
But I’m tired. Tired of bracing. Tired of pretending my body isn’t keeping score even when my mind insists everything is fine.
Right now, Cam feels like the only person in the room who isn’t waiting for me to pull myself together so they can move on.
My breathing settles completely.
The fog clears.
I don’t realize I’ve leaned forward until my forehead brushes his shoulder.
The contact registers all at once. Too close. Too intimate. My body goes rigid on instinct alone, heat flaring along my skin where it shouldn’t.
The fabric of his shirt is warm beneath my cheek. Solid. Real.
His hand doesn’t move.
He doesn’t flinch or pull away or make it into something I have to explain.
I lift my head slowly, heart thudding again—but differently now. Not fear. Awareness.
His gaze meets mine immediately. No surprise. No judgment. Just recognition. Like he felt the shift too and chose not to interrupt it.
I scoot back at once, the loss of his warmth sharp and immediate. My pulse stutters, irritated by how quickly my body notes the absence.
I straighten, smoothing my hands over my sleeves like I can erase the moment if I press hard enough.
My chest is tight for a different reason now.
I ignore it. After all, my body has already proven unreliable today.
Chapter fourteen
Cam
Itell myself I’m heading to the kitchen.
That’s the excuse I give as I move down the hall, replaying the rehearsal incident like it’s game tape I can’t turn off. The guy who broke toward the stage. Manny and security intercepting him clean. Lila going pale anyway. Logic losing to muscle memory.
She’d been safe. She knew it. Everyone knew it.
Her body didn’t care.
I’m still wound tight when I pass the studio.
