“You’re right,” I say lightly. “You don’t. But here’s the thing.”
I tap the phone against his chest once.
“You aimed that at someone inside that café. Someone who didn’t ask for it. That makes it my business.”
He swallows. “She’s not?—”
“Careful.”
I don’t raise my voice. I don’t need to.
He glances past me toward the café window, maybe hoping someone’s watching. They are. Boone’s broad silhouette is visible through the glass. Caleb’s glare is practically structural. Silas looks entertained but very alert.
Small town.
We travel in packs.
I unlock his phone again before he can stop me.
“Hey…”
I ignore him and open his messages.
He tries to grab it back.
Bad choice.
I catch his wrist and twist just enough that his knees dip.
“Relax,” I murmur. “You’re making this weird.”
I scroll.
There.
A text thread.
Unknown number.
Got eyes on her?
Need confirmation.
My jaw tightens.
I take a quick screenshot and send it to myself before he can process what I’m doing.
“Confirmation,” I read out loud softly. “That’s interesting.”
He goes pale.
“It’s not like that?—”
“Then tell me what it’s like.”
He doesn’t.
He can’t.
