Page 145 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“I don’t understand,” I say. “I didn’t fight anyone. I didn’t cause any trouble. I left quietly. I always leave quietly.”

His jaw tightens.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” he says.

I blink at him.

“I don’t want enemies,” I say. “I don’t want drama. I don’t want… this.”

I gesture vaguely at everything. The town. The emails. The heaviness sitting between us.

“In a way,” I admit, “I wish I could just… let it go. Put it behind me. Pretend it doesn’t matter.”

Wayne’s eyes harden slightly.

“But it does matter,” he says.

“I know,” I whisper. “It’s my reputation on the line. It’s my job. It’s Evan. It’s... you.”

The last word slips out more softly than I expect.

He doesn’t look away.

“You don’t get to ignore something that’s actively trying to hurt you,” he says. “We put a stop to it.”

We.

“I hate that this has followed me,” I say. “I hate that it gets to walk into this house without knocking.”

He steps closer then, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him.

“It doesn’t get to stay,” he says firmly.

And just as I’m about to say everything that’s building in my chest, about fear and anger and exhaustion…

The nausea hits.

Hard.

It comes out of nowhere, sharp and violent, stealing the air from my lungs.

I suck in a breath.

Wayne notices immediately. “You okay?”

I shake my head once. “No…”

I don’t even finish the word before I turn and bolt for the sink.

It’s worse than earlier.

My body folds in on itself, stomach convulsing so hard my hands shake against the counter.

“June—”

“I’m fine,” I try to say.

I am not fine.