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My eyes snapped to his, and he glanced towards the cabins. Towards where Darius would probably be inhaling every damn pudding cup within reach.

“Oh my God.” I could feel my cheeks flaming, and it had nothing to do with the sun beating down on us.

Omar raised both hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You know?”

“I have eyes.”

“Everybody has eyes,” I countered.

“And yours follow him constantly.”

“They do not.”

“They absolutely do.”

“Fuck.”

“Sorry.”

“No.” I rubbed both palms over my face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Omar leaned against the porch railing. “You don’t have to tell me.”

That made me want to tell him. Which was deeply annoying. I sighed. “Darius was my best friend.”

Omar stayed quiet.

“We grew up together.” I swallowed. “My father hated what I was before I even had words for it. Darius was…” Home. I couldn’t say that. Not aloud. “He was different.”

“You loved him.”

“I still do.” There. The pathetic little truth sneaking its way out.

Omar nodded. “He know?”

I laughed. “Darius knows everything except how to handle anything.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“You have no idea.”

Omar looked towards the dining hall again. “And he’s the reason you’ve never…”

“Yes.”

“No judgment.”

“I know.” That was the strange part. I believed him.

Omar smiled gently. “You know being confident and inexperienced aren’t opposites, right?”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I gave him a look, and he shrugged.