The way he says it—flat, final—makes something twist in my chest. “Why are you being like this?” I ask softly. “I waited up for you because I thought we could talk.”
“There’s nothing to say,” he replies, voice clipped. He pauses halfway to his room and glances back over his shoulder. “Actually, no. That’s not true. There is something.”
My throat tightens. “What?”
His expression shifts, not angry exactly—wounded, uncertain. “Where were you last night?”
My stomach drops. “What?”
“Last night,” he repeats, each word deliberate. “Maddox and I left so you could have some peace and quiet. We figured you needed a break, so we lied to you just to give you some space. The two of us went to his place to play video games. And when I came back, you were gone. So where the fuck were you, Millie?”
I swallow hard.Oh, God. He knows something. Or he suspects. How would he even know?
“I went to Bar 2.0,” I manage, keeping my voice steady.
His brow lifts. “And?”
“I had a drink,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat. “Played pool.”
“With who?”
“What is this?” I ask, trying to sound annoyed instead of panicked. “Why are you interrogating me?”
He stares at me for a long second, then shakes his head. “This was a mistake.”
“What was?”
“Me thinking we could live together without it being weird.” His voice is calm, too calm, like he’s reining something in. “Goodnight, Millie.”
“Liam—”
He turns, hand on the hallway doorframe. “Drop it,” he says quietly. “I’m done talking tonight.”
Then, softer but cutting all the same: “Next time, don’t stay up waiting.”
He disappears down the hall before I can think of what to say. The small door to his room—the one I converted from the closet when he moved in—shuts with a soft click.
Nimbus hops onto the arm of the couch, watching the hallway with his tail twitching. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, trying to swallow the ache clawing up my throat.
I should go after him. Knock, make him talk. But what would I even say?Sorry I worried you. Sorry I lied. Sorry I slept with the town’s new sheriff.
I had no idea who Knox was. I had no clue. Of all the people I could have slept with, it had to be a police officer. I fucked up. I fucked up pretty badly.
I know a few fundamental facts about Liam. He’s my best friend. He loves me. He loves Maddox. He loves his mom. And he hates cops.
After what happened between his mom and dad, I can’t even blame him.
Fuck! Why the hell did I sleep with Knox?
How do I tell Liam the truth? He would never understand. He would never forgive me.
I sink back onto the couch instead. Nimbus meows once, so impatient, then jumps down to his food bowl. I follow on autopilot, pour him a little kibble, watching the tiny crunch of his jaw like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.
The kitchen clock ticks too loud in the quiet. The smell of the leftover pasta fills the room. I open the window just enough to let the cold air in, hoping it’ll clear the tightness in my chest.
My brain won’t shut off.
He was out with Maddox. That should’ve been fine, normal. So why did he look at me like that? Like he knew something.
