I don’t go anywhere, actually.
I just drive.
No music.
No destination.
Just the road and the echo of everything I should’ve said—and didn’t.
Isa’s kiss.
Stella’s eyes.
That look.
That damn look.
I drag a hand over my mouth, exhaling hard as I pull into the athletic complex parking lot.
Lights are still on inside, this place never really sleeps.
I head straight to the locker room.
No one’s here. I strip out of my clothes and turn the shower on cold.
Not warm.
Not even cool.
Cold.
The water hits like a shock to the system.
Freezing.
Brutal.
Exactly what I need.
I brace my hands against the tile, head hanging, water running down my face, my neck, my back—washing away sweat, tension, everything except what’s stuck in my head.
Because that doesn’t go anywhere.
Stella.
Looking at me like that.
Isa.
Kissing me like she already made the decision for both of us.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Get it together,” I mutter.
But I can’t.
I shut the water off after a few minutes—if that.
