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It’s May. They didn’t win Frozen Four, but they made it to the semifinals, losing the first round. Bennett took it personally. He called me but only let it ring once before he ended the call.

Stronger than me. I would’ve answered if it had started again.

But he’s here now, at this party, on the alcove of the stairs just behind the wall, catching my wrist as we brush past one another.

“Come home with me,” he says again, and this time it’s a plea.

“Okay.” I nod. His flushed cheeks pull higher, a smile tugging red lips across white teeth until I can see the chip in one.

I pull my hand away. His fingers follow, gripping me tighter and then reluctantly, slowly releasing me. “Just meet me in the car, ten minutes.”

The sentence dims his light, and my own nails dig deep into my palm, paying penance for his pain.

“Sure.” He nods. “If that’s how it’s going to be.”

It has to be, I want to say.

I don’t say a word. I want to say, Never mind, it’s not worth it. It will only hurt us both even more. But I can’t.

I can’t say no to him. And I don’t want to.

Ten minutes later he presses me to the side of his car with a heavy, burning kiss. His tongue slips into my mouth, tasting like whiskey and saltwater and every piece of myself I’ve tried to destroy.

“Are you drunk?”

He shakes his head. “Are you?”

I shake mine. We crawl into the backseat of his car, and he kisses me slower, pulling my body into his lap and curling his hands into my hair.

We don’t have sex, despite the situation others might read if they saw us slipping away. Instead, he lays my head on the expanse of his thighs, hands combing through my hair in gentle soothing strokes. We watch each other breathe. I fall asleep there, only waking when I feel the movement of the car coming to a stop. Only opening my eyes to the sight of his room, Seven gently nudging my leg.

He sleeps beside me for an hour, my hand in his. I get up and leave before the sun has risen.

Chapter 63

THEN: Junior Year, December

Paloma

It’s early December. I can’t decide who has been avoiding who, but when I catch him on the balcony by the dimming fire, it’s late and he’s drunk.

At first, I’m sure he’ll see me and turn the other way. That I’ve finally snuffed out the light that’s always burned for me inside of Bennett Reiner.

That’s what you want, right?

But he doesn’t. He just stares for a long moment, before finishing his cup of whatever alcoholic drink he’s been indulging in.

“Bennett,” I say, biting my lip. I’ve had zero sips of alcohol. “Listen—”

“Rhys isn’t here.” He slurs the words. My stomach cramps, hand raising to my heart like I can rub the sting away.

“I need to talk to you—”

“I’m not surprised.” He laughs, but there’s only pain in it. “That you like him. Rhys is—”

“Stop it,” I whisper, stepping closer to him. “I didn’t know. And . . . once I did it was over.”

I’d barely made it to the car the night of our cursed double date before telling Rhys I needed to go. I texted him that I was done quickly after. It was callous and rude for a boy that had only been kind to me, but I’d never meant to hurt anyone.