Page 48 of Beyond the Lines (Pine Barren University #1)

twenty-eight

LEA

“That one is definitely hiding something,” I say, pointing at the ceiling panel that sits slightly askew at the corner of the dorm common room.

Em squints up from where we’re huddled around the microwave, watching our cheese slowly melt to liquid gold. “Too obvious. If I was stashing primo pot, I’d go for the one behind the TV. Nobody ever touches it because everyone’s afraid of messing up the cable.”

I shake my head, reaching for the container of jalapenos. “No way. The TV panel gets moved every time maintenance comes to fix the reception, which is like every other week because Brad keeps adjusting the antenna when he’s drunk.”

“Fair point.” Em leans closer to the microwave, her eyes widening. “Ooh, cheese bubble! That’s the perfect melt point.”

She opens the door and the microwave beeps just as the door to the communal kitchen slams open hard enough to rattle the cabinets. I jump, nearly sending jalapenos flying across the counter.

It’s Mike .

My brother’s face is an alarming shade of crimson, his chest heaving like he sprinted across campus. His eyes lock onto me with laser focus, and the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.

Three sophomores who were prepping ramen at the counter grab their cups and practically teleport out of the kitchen, clutching instant noodles to their chests as they head toward the exit.

“Mike?” I start to ask what’s wrong, but his expression stops the words in my throat.

He knows.

“You’re sleeping with Declan.” It’s a statement, not a question, his voice low and filled with barely contained rage.

My mouth opens, closes, then opens again. I’m a beached fish gasping for air, caught completely off-guard. “Uh…” I say, and that’s a struggle.

“Oh shit,” Em whispers beside me, and it might as well be a confession shouted through a megaphone.

“So it is true.” Mike’s eyes flick to her and back to me, and it’s not a question anymore. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lea? I had to find out you’re both fucking from my teammates?”

The word “fucking” hits me like a slap. As if what Declan and I have could be reduced to something so crude. Suddenly, I feel my anger rising to meet his. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react exactly like this—like some caveman who thinks he gets a say in who I date.”

Mike scratches the stubble on his chin, disheveling his hair further. “I specifically told you not to?—”

“You told me not to date hockey players.” I cross my arms. “Which, by the way, is not a binding contract, signed in blood. I’m an adult, Mike.”

“Yeah, a real adult.” He scoffs, taking a step closer to me, all the while Em stays right by my side. “Sneaking around behind my back?—”

“We weren’t sneaking,” I snap, though that’s exactly what we were doing. “We were just… taking our time to figure things out.”

Behind me, the nachos sit forgotten, cheese congealing. Em has gone perfectly still beside me, but there’s a strength in her presence that gives me power. Suddenly, I’m furious at Mike, rather than scared of upsetting him, and eager to defend what Declan and I have.

“Figure what out, Leandra?” Mike’s voice rises. “How to destroy the one thing in life I give a damn about besides you? How to best betray me?”

“Betray you?” I almost laugh. “This isn’t about you! Not everything is about you, Mike!”

“It is when it’s my teammate! My friend!” He takes a step toward me, and I stand my ground. “You’ve got no idea what this does to team dynamics.”

“I’d have thought you have enough on your plate without worrying about who I’m dating,” I say, lowering my voice.

Mike stiffens. “What does that mean?”

I hesitate, suddenly aware of the thin ice I’m walking on. But I’m tired of tiptoeing around him. “I know you’ve been struggling,” I say carefully. “And I saw that article, too. The one about your ‘fall from grace.’ It was open on your laptop when I stopped by last week.”

His face pales slightly beneath the angry flush. For a moment, vulnerability replaces the anger in his eyes. Then his walls slam back up, higher and thicker than before, and I know he’s now more furious than ever despite his features becoming icy cold.

“So you thought, what? That you’d spare my feelings by lying to me?” A bitter laugh escapes Mike’s throat. “I don’t need to be coddled, Lea, not like you do…”

My eyes widen in shock at his words, and I hear Em suck in a breath beside me, inching closer. “That’s not fair, Mike…”

“Really?” He scoffs. “Because that’s not what I saw this summer.”

My stomach drops. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that guy dumped you, and you fell apart completely.” His words come out fast, sharp like knives. “Mom called me in a panic because you wouldn’t stop crying. Dad said you wouldn’t eat. They were both worried about you, Lea. And who had to pick up the pieces?”

Em shifts uncomfortably beside me, but I barely register her presence now. All I can feel is the burning in my chest, the lump forming in my throat. Mike, my biggest ally in the world, has just turned against me and done so in the most hurtful way possible.

“I thought…” My voice falters. “I thought you helped me because you wanted to. Because you were worried about me too.”

Mike sighs, scratching the stubble on his chin.

“Of course I was worried. But Jesus, Lea. It was just a guy. A summer fling. A six-week fuck fest before you’re back to reality.

But you made it into this whole—” he gestures dramatically, like a stage performer making some grand statement “—epic tragedy.”

Each word is like a dagger. All this time, I thought Mike was the one person who understood, who saw my pain as legitimate. The betrayal cuts deep, slicing through the illusion that at least one member of my family doesn’t think I’m an emotional wreck .

“You know what?” I steady myself against the counter. “You sound exactly like Mom and Dad right now.”

“Maybe they’re right.” Mike’s voice softens slightly, but the damage is already done. “You always do this. You feel everything so intensely, read more into situations than you should. Just like with Chris. And just like what’s going to happen with Declan after a few more weeks or months.”

I say nothing. By now, the cheese on our abandoned nachos has congealed into a sad, rubbery mass. I stare at it, fighting back tears, although I’m not sure whether it’s sadness or fury that’s causing it.

“Look, I get it.” Mike lets out a long sigh, his tone shifting to something almost patronizing. “You’re in college, you want to have your little romances. But Declan’s not the guy for you, because hockey players have it in their DNA to fuck and move on. And I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

I straighten up, meet his eyes directly, deciding that my emotions right now are definitely fury.

“That’s not your decision to make. And if things go south with Declan—which they won’t—I won’t come crying to you.

You’ve made it clear that it was a huge chore, so don’t worry about having to rescue me again. ”

“Fine,” Mike says, the word clipped and cold. “But when he breaks your heart, remember I tried to warn you.”

“He’s not going to break my heart.”

Mike just stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turns and walks out, the door slamming behind him with enough force to make the microwave rattle. And the silence that follows is deafening.

I stand frozen in place, staring at the closed door. My hands squeeze the edge of the counter so tightly my knuckles turn white. I don’t realize I’m crying until Em’s arms wrap around me.

“Hey,” she says softly. “You OK?”

“I’m fine,” I say, even as tears stream down my face. I wipe them away with the back of my hand, annoyed at my body’s betrayal. “He’s just being… Mike.”

Em’s eyes are full of concern, but she doesn’t call me on the obvious lie. Instead, she gives me a squeeze. “Those nachos are beyond saving, but I’ve got emergency chocolate in my desk drawer, and if you ask really nicely I might even give you the last cider.”

I shake my head, already reaching for my phone. “I need to go.”

“To Mike?” Em asks, releasing me from her embrace.

“No.” I pull out my phone, and see there’s a dozen messages and calls. “Shit.”

“What?” Em leans in close.

“Declan.” I give a happy-sad smile. “He tried to warn me.”

Em nods, understanding instantly. “Want me to come with you?”

“Thanks, but no.” I take a deep breath. “This is something I need to do alone.”

I need to be with someone who doesn’t make me feel like my emotions are somehow wrong or excessive. Someone who looks at me and sees strength, not fragility. Someone who loves me exactly as I am, and damn whatever anyone else says about it… or us.

“Tell him I said hi,” Em says with a small smile. “And that if he hurts you, I know seventeen ways to make a death look like an accident.”

Despite everything, I laugh. “Only seventeen? ”

“The others would definitely be traced back to me.” She shrugs. “Text me if you need anything.”

I nod, grabbing my jacket and purse. As I head for the door, I pause. “Em? Thanks for supporting me.”

“Always,” she says, already starting to clean up our abandoned snack. “That’s what friends are for.”

Outside, the evening air is crisp. I pull my jacket tighter around me and start walking, my steps determined despite the tears still drying on my cheeks. The campus paths are quieter than usual, most students already settled in for the night or at weekend parties.

The weight of Mike’s words sits heavy in my chest, but with each step toward Declan’s apartment, I feel something else growing alongside it—certainty. Certainty that for once in my life, I’m not overreacting or being too emotional.

Certainty that all I want, all I need, is Declan.

I’ve never been good at admitting that I need someone. It always felt like a weakness, a confirmation of everything my parents believe about me. But right now, walking to him with tears drying on my cheeks, it feels like the strongest thing I’ve ever done.