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She shrugged, not fully committed to the motion. “I saw you on the field earlier. You grabbed her. It just felt like—.” She cut herself off, not ready to finish the thought.

“When I stopped her from falling?” I offered, tilting my head just enough to seem confused, not defensive.

She nodded, eyes drifting toward my window like it might give her the answer she wasn’t getting from me.

I should’ve known this would happen eventually.

One of the best things about Brooke was that she never questioned what I had with Sanjana.

At least this wasn’t starting with her screaming or throwing shit.

I’d dealt with that kind of melodrama enough from girls I never touched or entertained with more than a few friendly words.

I studied this pretty blonde standing in my room, looking up at me with feelings I could never return.

No part of me wanted her long-term. I wouldn’t have gone this far at all if I didn’t need to ensure this ended without any blowback on my girl.

In the meantime, it wasn’t exactly painful watching Sanj squirm and come to hate the flimsy, friend-shaped label she kept slapping over something that had long since bled into more.

It wasn’t my intention to hurt her, ever, but I still wondered if seeing me with someone else made her feel a fraction of the gut-splitting agony I felt every time I had to watch her with that fairy-boy.

Jealousy. Rage. Giving me a sickness that crawled under my skin that only she could take away.

For years, I played my part. I was patient and restrained, tethering her to me with invisible strings.

I let her believe we could keep this thing between us safe.

Let her pretend it was still just friendship.

She was the one who shattered that boundary before I could.

Then she tried to act like we could simply go back to normal. You know what I decided?

Fuck. That.

Honest to God, this was a testament to how well I’d hidden my obsession.

Now I just had to figure out what to do with Brooke until her role was cut.

I hadn’t touched her beyond a few distracted kisses and half-hearted messing around in weeks, maybe longer.

I wouldn’t have cared in the slightest if she ended things first, but I knew she wouldn’t.

In a situation like this, status always trumped genuine desire.

It didn’t matter if Brooke wanted to drop me and run at this point.

Our circles operated on some archaic-ass philosophies.

If you weren’t set up to marry a wealthy stranger, you had better pray you found one you could tolerate who checked all the right boxes.

I never had to deal with that shit, thank fuck. Brooke’s parents were pushing it now, though. They wanted their daughter to secure the Voss name and all the perks that came with it. Unfortunately for them, my parents had loved my future wife from the moment it was announced she was being born.

There was never going to be a competition between Sanj and another girl, because she never needed to compete.

Thank fuck I only had to keep Brooke around a little bit longer. I moved toward her, ready to shut this down cleanly before she could turn it into something it wasn’t.

“Nothing is going on with me and Sanjana,” I assured her, voice even.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. If something were happening, I damn sure wouldn’t have been standing there with Brooke.

But of course, I couldn’t say that part out loud.

Brooke’s posture relaxed a fraction, though she kept playing with the hem of the hoodie she wore, a team-issue one with player names stitched across the back.

She’d asked for it the other week, and I gave it to her because I had no intention of wearing it.

I had another from freshman year at Crowsfell.

Sanjana had my original. I gave it to her in high school after I lettered for the first time.

That one meant something. Naturally, it was hers for the taking.

Brooke twisted the fabric tighter around her fingers. “I was never worried before, but she kind of…”

Now she had my attention. “She kind of what?”

She hesitated again. “Maybe I’m reading too much into it…”

This wasn’t jeopardy. Why couldn’t she speak in a full fucking sentence? I forced myself to soften, stepping closer and gently taking her hands, wanting the conversation to be over if she wasn’t going to say anything worth listening to. “What is it?”

She looked down at the hoodie she had on. “Was this hers?”

“No. She has her own.”

Brooke looked slightly thrown by my answer. I knew how that sounded, but I thought it was an important detail to be known in case her ego tried to swell too much.

“Oh. She kind of looked at me earlier. When she saw me in it.”

“She looked at you?” I repeated slowly. “How?”

She shrugged like she didn’t want to give the answer. “No specific way, really.”

Goddamn, this was like pulling teeth.

“You know what? Never mind, I’m sorry for even bringing it up.”

That made two of us. I had no intention of dragging this out any longer than I had to. I eased off and shifted my tone enough to disarm. I didn’t have to try hard. Reeling people in came naturally when you knew which version of yourself they needed most.

“Hey,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along her knuckles. “You don’t have to apologize for asking. I respect that you came to me with something that bothered you.”

I didn’t give a fuck what was bothering her, but the performance was for her benefit, not mine.

Brooke softened immediately, like she’d just been waiting for the signal that things were fine again.

She let out a small breath and stepped in, her arms sliding around my waist as she pressed her cheek against my chest. “I’m still sorry for making things awkward,” she murmured.

I looked down at the top of her head. There were things I could’ve asked her too, but I already knew the answers. Showing my hand now would push us into territory it wasn’t time to cross yet.

She tilted her head back, rising to press her lips against mine.

At the same time, her hands slipped beneath my shirt, fingertips skating over my skin.

My hands landed on her hips, not in invitation, but in containment.

She took it as permission anyway, pressed in closer, her breath catching like she thought she was getting somewhere.

I gently pushed her off me and took a full step back.

Her brows drew together. “Don’t you want to?” she asked, voice soft, unsure.

Did I want to fuck? That was rhetorical, but I wasn’t fucking her .

We were well past that part of this drawn-out drama.

The most I could tolerate were a few half-hearted hugs or some light petting, and even that thought turned my stomach.

“I want a lot of things.” I brushed her hair off her cheek like it meant something. “Not all of them are good for you.”

Her confusion visibly doubled, and I pretended not to notice.

“You wanna throw something on while we eat?” I nodded toward the TV, my voice smooth, casual as ever. “Could use a movie before I knock out.”

“Sure,” she answered with a smile.

She turned away, and I checked the time. It was so fucking early. All I wanted to do was eat, sleep, wake up, and escape to the gym. I had a long night ahead of me before that could happen.

I turned my head, watching Brooke’s steady breathing as she slept soundly.

My mind was on the one person who owned permanent real estate in it.

If she wasn’t sleeping yet, she’d be curled up on Deadweight’s couch or in his fucking bed, watching some horror movie because those were always her go-to choices outside of anime.

Ashton wasn’t a fan of either. Yet another reason that he was wrong for her.

They couldn’t enjoy her favorite movies or shows together.

I ran a hand down my face and slipped out of bed quietly, making sure not to wake Brooke.

She stirred once, murmuring something in her sleep before rolling over.

I needed space from her.

I needed silence, too.

The sound of her breathing was making me overstimulated in the worst way, and I couldn’t exactly smother her with a pillow.

The bathroom door shut behind me. I undressed and turned the shower on as hot as it would go.

Steam billowed fast, curling along the slate walls like it couldn’t wait to swallow me whole.

I grabbed a towel and washcloth and then stepped under the spray, dragging both hands through my hair before bracing them flat against the tile.

The water scalded, but not nearly enough to cauterize the thing unraveling in my chest.

The scent of vanilla clinging to my skin wasn’t helping.

It was too much like a brand. Or the plague.

Reminding me of the things I didn’t fucking want.

I reached for my body wash and wash rag, scrubbing hard.

I’d spent years learning how to leash the darker parts of myself, training instinct into patience, violence into strategy.

For the most part, I was good at it. Always had been.

She made it harder.

Sanjana Marino wasn’t just the exception; she was the consequence.

A goddamn drug with a taste too dangerous to forget.

And now that I’d had the smallest sample…

I couldn’t un-crave it. Every time she looked at me like I wasn’t a monster and touched me with nothing but love, I felt the leash slip just a little more.

I was too fucking restless right now, and since I couldn’t fuck or fight it out, I had to force myself to compartmentalize.

I recited distractions like scripture. Game plays.

Schedules. Homework. Nick’s party. I ran through all of it like military drills.

I kept going until I felt marginally better, and then my shower.

After drying off and throwing on a fresh change of clothes, I decided to go and scrounge up some more food.

I was positive the others had devoured most of what was ordered after I grabbed a plate earlier, but I was ready to demolish whatever was left.

I hit the last step and heard voices coming from the living room.

I gravitated toward them. Xander looked up from where he was sitting on the couch.

I wasn’t surprised to see he and Rook hadn’t left.

We had our extra bedrooms set up for that specific reason, giving them their own space here for whenever they needed it.

“Saved you a few slices, some wings, and the last of the garlic knots before these uncivilized animals took everything else. It’s in the kitchen.”

I dropped into the armchair with a low laugh. “Didn’t think you had it in you to fend them off.”

He leaned back, sipping a bottle of water. “Figured you’d need it. You barely ate earlier.”

“Actually,” Nick cut in from the other end of the couch, “I’m the one who saved the wings. Let’s not rewrite history with the wrong version of events.”

I smirked, about to fire back, but paused when I noticed the faint bruise blooming along his cheekbone. How the fuck had I missed that earlier? “Rough practice?”

He shrugged, cracking his knuckles with a grin that never meant anything good. “You should see the other guy.”

Cade barked a laugh, tossing Nick a mock salute. “Hero of the hour.”

I shook my head. If people thought football could be brutal, they’d never watched Nick tear through the ice during a hockey game. Or in this case, practice. The rink was his battleground, and he played like he had something to prove even when he didn’t.

“How’s the party prep going?” I had meant to ask him about this earlier, but the day got away from me.

“Better than I expected, honestly. You guys are going to help me set up still, right?”

Cade snorted, barely looking up from whatever had distracted him on his phone. Since Xander was at our house, knowing my brother, it was a girl begging for late-night dick. Also, knowing my brother, he would be going to deliver. “No shit. Think we would let you screw it up?”

“I’m close to the most competent person in this room,” Nick argued.

That set off a whole round of affectionate insults and ribbing. I laughed along for a minute, then stood and stretched. “Alright, I’m going to heat up some food. You pull up everything you’ve got so far.”

He hopped up, grabbed his MacBook, and handed it over to Rook, who’d been mostly silent as usual up until then aside from a few well-aimed jabs.

He was never one for many words, but he’d come a long way from how he was in the past, and that was more than we could ever ask.

By the time I fixed myself a plate and made it back, he had synced Nick’s monitor to the big screen in the living room.

It showed everything in different tabs. The layout, lighting ideas, and playlist options.

Rook flicked through the screens, nodding in approval.

“Nice setup so far,” Xander commented.

We went over the details while Nick threw in more of his ideas, and we shared some of our own, making sure this party would be everything it was meant to be.

I checked my phone, catching the time—12:30.

I instinctively shot a quick text to Sassy before setting it aside to focus.

The conversation kept flowing around me, a mess of jokes and arguments about whether to add scare actors or animatronics.

I let their noise smooth out the static in my head.

Being around them, my brothers always had a way of settling the part of me that never seemed to stop pacing.

Tonight, I needed that more than I wanted to admit.

I wasn’t sure how much longer it would be enough.