Page 66 of Double Standards

I shake my head. I know she means well, but this is something I need to handle alone. Lexie tilts her head, studying me through narrowed eyes before finally relenting.

“Although... I’ll probably need your car to grab the rest of my stuff.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but I know she’ll say yes. We’ve known each other too long for pointless politeness.

The sudden vibration of my phone buzzing loudly on the desk catches her attention. I already know who’s calling, but it’s piqued Lexie’s curiosity.

She raises a brow at me, clearly surprised I’m not reaching for it. With a teasing finger pointed, she asks, “You gonna get that?”

“Nope,” I say, defiant.

Lexie kicks her feet off the chair, spins around, and stands abruptly. The quick movement makes me a little dizzy just watching. She plants her hands firmly on her hips, then shoots me a knowing look.

“I’ve gotta jet, but remember...” She raises a brow, points her index fingers at me like guns, then turns and strides toward the door without missing a beat.

“Stay badass,” we call out in unison. I chuckle as she disappears around the corner, swallowed by the shadows. It’s the small moments like this—our shared humor, the way we finish each other’s sentences—that remind me how deep ourbond runs. It’s a connection I’ve never had with anyone else, and now, after everything, I cling to it tighter than ever.

I wave her off, then my eyes fall to my phone.

Ten missed calls.Ten.

My chest tightens. I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on me. Slowly, I hit dial on Axel’s number. The line barely rings before his voice explodes into my ear, rough and commanding, shattering any calm I was trying to hold on to.

“About fucking time,” he growls, no softness in his tone.

“I’ve been busy,” I answer, voice clipped.

“Too busy to call me after last night?” His words are sharp, almost accusing. I can hear the hurt and frustration beneath the surface—the silent demand that I should have told him about Cooper. But Ryder showed up first. Part of me wants to believe Axel actually cares, like he wants to protect me.

But I don’t trust that feeling. Not yet.

“I’m fine,” I reply with conviction, trying to keep my voice steady, but it’s a lie. My throat feels tight and raw.

“Then why the hell didn’t you answer the first time?” His voice lowers, thick with protectiveness—and something more, something dangerous.

“I don’t answer to you, Axel.” The words slip out before I can stop them, sharper than I intended. Immediately, regret crashes in. I know he’s only pushing because he cares, because he’s worried. I close my eyes and take a slow, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I just… I needed space.”

There’s a heavy silence on the other end, and I can hear him breathing—slow, measured. Maybe he’s steadying himself too.

Finally, his voice comes, low and raw with something like understanding. “I get it. I just wanted to know you were okay. That’s all.”

My fingers tighten around the phone. Despite everything, despite the distance I try to put between us, his words hit me likea lifeline. And for the first time in a long time, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I’m not as alone as I feel.

Fuck you for caring, Axel.

The fact that he’s basically admitted it—barely holding back that raw, unspoken feeling—has my stomach flipping, my pulse hammering in my ears. My chest tightens, a mix of frustration and something dangerously close to hope swirling inside me. But I have to rein it in. I can’t let myself get distracted by Axel’s complicated pull until I’ve handled the mess with Cooper.

“Thanks.” I hope he can hear the smile in my voice—soft, almost teasing—offered up like a fragile peace offering. “I’ll see you Monday to go over the trial?”

“See you Monday,” he confirms, voice steady. Then the line cuts out. The silence that follows feels too sudden, like a door slammed shut without a goodbye.

A pang of disappointment stabs at me, sharp and unwelcome. But I shove it down deep. This is Axel—always so abrupt, so controlled. There’s no room for soft moments with him, not yet.

I shift my attention to anything but the two men who have my heart and head in a constant storm. I groan, staring at the case files spread out in front of me. I swipe a hand over my face, careful not to smudge my mascara, but it feels pointless.

The day slips away in a blur.

My mind won’t stop racing, replaying every word from that call. At the same time, I’m juggling the logistics of my new living arrangements—the boxes to pack, the plans to make. Before I even realize it, hours have passed, and the files remain mostly untouched.

Finally, I shut down my laptop, grab my coat, and head out to pick up Lexie’s car. I’m moving on autopilot as I drive toward my apartment, lost in thought.