Page 12

Emmie

I find Kai sitting in the kitchen nursing a mug of coffee. He looks up and forces a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll walk you back,” he mutters, pushing to stand.

I shake my head. “It’s fine.”

“Emmie, you can’t walk across campus alone in just my shirt.”

“What did he say?” I ask suddenly, and his eyes snap to mine. “For you to punch him.”

He places his mug in the sink and keeps his back to me for a minute. “It doesn’t matter.”

I frown. “Just tell me, Kai. You’re asking me to believe you, so tell me everything.”

He turns, closing the gap between us and gently brushing his thumb over my lower lip.

His eyes linger there for just a second too long, like he’s debating if he should kiss me or not.

The worst thing is, I wait, staring back, daring him to.

But then his hand drops back to his side, and he reaches past me to grab his jacket.

He places it over my shoulders. “I promised myself I’d never hurt you again, Em, so this is me keeping that promise.

It doesn’t matter what he said, just know he deserved it.

” And then he passes me and heads for the door.

We walk the short journey across campus in silence. At least we usually speak, even if it’s me being a bitch and throwing his attempts in his face.

I twist my fingers together and risk a side glance at him.

He’s staring straight ahead; his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I loved the flowers,” I eventually say.

“Thank you.” He gives a stiff nod in response, not even looking my way.

“I haven’t dried any in such a long time,” I add, with a nervous laugh.

The silence is killing me. “There were so many in the countryside too, but I just didn’t feel .

. .” I trail off, sighing heavily. “I’ll talk to Landon.

Have him back off. He’s just being protective over me,” I say.

This time, Kai scoffs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“We’re not a thing,” I tell him, suddenly desperate for him to know the truth.

“He likes me, but Zara made rules, and we can’t get together whilst we live together.

” I wince at how the words all sound wrong.

He slows to a stop, turning to me. “But if she hadn’t made rules, you’d give him a chance?”

I think over his words, the seconds dragging out.

It only pisses him off more because he rolls his eyes again.

“Forget it, Emmie. But do me a favour, at least ask him what he’s really interested in before you make a fool of yourself.

” He starts to back away, “Again.” And then he turns on his heel and heads back to his place.

I stare after him open mouthed. And then tears prickle my eyes and I clench my fists until my nails dig into my palms. It was a low blow, and he knows it. But I’m done crying over him. He’s wrong about Landon, he’s only ever showed me kindness, which is more than I can say for Kai.

I head back to the house, vowing that this time, I’ll be stronger.

The club is already packed when we push through the doors, the bass vibrating through the floor and straight into my bones.

Zara grabs my hand with a squeal. “Drinks first, then the dance floor!” she shouts, not waiting for a reply before dragging me toward the bar.

Landon trails behind, his hands shoved in his pockets, wearing the same faintly amused expression he always has.

I wasn’t going to come out tonight, it’s the last thing I wanted to do.

But Zara insisted I needed to drag myself along just to show Kai I’m over him.

It felt like a good idea at the time, but now I’m here, in Zara’s tight fitted mini skirt and a cropped top that shows off way more than I’d usually reveal, I’m regretting it.

We squeeze our way to the front. Zara orders a round of shots for the three of us, already leaning across the bar to flirt with the guy serving.

Landon stands beside me, calm and quiet in a way that feels almost deliberate.

I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

There’s nothing cocky about him. He’s not loud.

He doesn’t scan the room like he owns it. Unlike Kai.

I shove that thought down with the first shot.

Two shots in and Zara’s already clocked a guy she likes the look of. She downs her third, fluffs up her curls, and beams at us. “Be back soon, but if I’m not, assume I’ve run off to marry him.” And then she’s gone, vanishing into the crowd like glitter on a breeze.

I blink after her. “Well.”

Landon gives a soft laugh. “That was quick.”

Now it’s just us . The noise, the lights, the sweat in the air, and him. He looks at me, steady and easy. “Wanna dance?”

I hesitate, then nod. “Only if you promise not to laugh at how bad I am.”

He grins. “You haven’t seen my moves yet.”

We step onto the dance floor, and I try to lose myself in the moment.

But my brain’s a traitor. It remembers a different night, a different boy.

How Kai's hand fit at the small of my back, how he grinned, as if I were the only person who existed. Landon doesn’t touch me like that. He’s careful. Polite.

And for some stupid reason, that almost makes me like him more.

We’re dancing, if you can call it that. Mostly moving to the beat, laughing when one of us missteps or the crowd knocks into us. Landon isn’t a great dancer, but at least he’s not pretending to be. He throws in this awkward little shoulder shimmy that makes me snort.

“You’re actually worse than me,” I shout over the music.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he says, grinning. “I told you, no promises.”

He spins around dramatically and almost knocks into someone. I laugh again, looser now, the shots kicking in. The music shifts, the tempo slowing just enough to make me pause.

Then suddenly, Landon’s close. Not too close, but his hand brushes mine and his expression softens, just a little. “You okay?” he asks, voice low despite the noise.

And I don’t know why that makes my chest tighten. Maybe because no one’s asked me that in a while and actually meant it.

I nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He studies me. “About him?”

I go still. “What?”

“Kai,” he says simply.

I blink. “Is it that obvious?”

Landon shrugs. “You get this look sometimes. You’re here, but not really.”

The way he says it, it’s not judging. It’s not pity. It’s just noticing. And suddenly I realise how rare that is. Being seen, without someone trying to fix you or pull you apart. “I’m trying to move on,” I admit.

He nods. “Then let me help.”

I raise an eyebrow. “By dancing badly?”

He smiles. “That. And this.” Before I can ask, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a half-melted chocolate bar. “I stole this from the kitchen before we left. Emergency mood booster. You look as if you need it.”

I laugh. And just like that, something shifts. Because it’s stupid and small and slightly ridiculous, but it’s also real . Not a grand gesture. Not some slick line. Just a chocolate bar from someone who noticed I might need cheering up.

I take it from him, smiling despite myself. “Thanks.”

He shrugs. “Anytime.”

Kai

I stare at my phone, the text blinking back at me, daring me to be honest. My thumb hovers, heart thumping way too loud for a message no one asked for. Then I hit send.

Me: Truth 10. I pretend to be something I’m not.

I don’t think that’s a surprise to you, because you know me better than anyone.

I hide behind popularity. It’s my superhero costume, protecting me from failure.

All my life I’ve been told I’m nothing. Not important.

Not clever. Not loved. My dad did a real number on me, Em.

And I don’t want your sympathy, but these truths have become my therapy, so don’t reply. Just let me offload x

I toss the phone on the bed like it burned me.

Because admitting any of that, it’s not something I do.

It’s not something Kai Banks does. I’m the guy who’s supposed to have it all together.

The one who jokes too much, drinks too much, flirts too much.

That’s the whole point of the mask. And if I wear it long enough, maybe I’ll forget what’s underneath.

She won’t see the message yet. Noah already told me she’s out with her housemates. With him .

I sink back against the pillows, jaw clenched. I should’ve told her what Landon said. But I didn’t. I told myself it was to protect her or that she wouldn’t believe me.

And guess what? She didn’t.

I told her he was bad news. She looked me in the eye and still chose to trust him over me. And I don’t even blame her. I wouldn’t trust me either. Not after everything.

But I’m trying now. I’m trying . For her. And for what? So I can picture her dancing with him while I sit here bleeding words into a phone like a lovesick idiot?

God, I hate this. I hate that it matters. I hate how much of me still bends toward her like a magnet every time I pretend I’m over it. I hate that being good, being honest , still feels as if I’m losing. Because being the bad guy? That at least came with armour.

Now I’m just standing here with everything stripped back.

I pick up my phone again, seeing for sure that she hasn’t read it, before adding another.

Me: Truth 11. Mum leaving was where it all went wrong.

It’s the first time I saw Dad lose it. He didn’t leave his room for days, only to get whiskey.

He was angry and bitter, and all I had to learn from, was him.

I became that way too. What kind of mother leaves her child?

When Dad was drunk, he’d lecture me on women.

He’d tell me to never let them close enough to con me.

Then he’d say how Mum hated us both, so much so, she wouldn’t even tell us where she was.

Maybe rejection, or at least the thought of it, is why I always fuck up?

The silence stretches. I stare at the ceiling, my mind working overtime. I meant what I wrote. But now that it’s out there, all I can think is; What if she rolls her eyes? What if she shows someone else? What if she doesn’t even read it at all?

My phone buzzes and my heart jumps. It’s not her. It’s a notification that Zara’s tagged her in something. I open Instagram.

The first story is blurry. There’s loud music and lights flashing, then it cuts to Emmie. She’s laughing and the sound makes me smile. Her head’s thrown back, eyes bright, hair curled around her face like a halo. And Landon’s beside her, doing some stupid dance move that makes her double over.

I watch it on loop. Once. Twice. By the third time, my jaw aches from clenching.

He gets to see that version of her. The loose, open one.

The one I ruined. And yeah, maybe he doesn’t know her the way I do, maybe he never read the secret messages, or saw the parts of her she keeps locked up, but he gets this . He gets her now.

Another story opens, this time she’s holding a shot glass, laughing as Zara shouts something in her ear. Landon’s in the background again, looking at her like she’s made of starlight.

I lock my phone and throw it across the bed, but the damage is done.

It’s one thing to lose her. It’s another thing to watch someone else take my place.

And I can’t even be mad at her for it. I get it.

I messed up. I wasn’t enough when it counted.

But God, it burns. Watching her smile like I never existed.