Page 5

Zane

She walked away like I hadn’t just shaken her foundation with a single word.

Firecracker.

The second I said it, I saw it—the way her shoulders tensed and the flicker of hesitation before she forced herself to keep moving.

A half-second crack in her carefully built walls.

And now? Now, I can’t get the look in her eyes out of my head.

I should let it go. I should turn my attention to literally anyone else. But I don’t.

Instead, I grab a drink from the keg, cross my arms over my chest, and watch her from across the party. Not in a creepy way. Just in a ‘what the hell is she doing to me’ kind of way.

Then I see Knox approach her. See his hand graze her arm.

My grip tightens around my drink.

She’s smiling—not at me, but at him.

And it’s even worse that it’s not just some random guy. It’s one of my teammates.

He leans in and says something that makes her laugh. Suddenly, I’m gripping my beer so damn tight I might snap the thing in half.

I tell myself I don’t care. To look away. To let it go. But my feet are already moving.

By the time I close the distance, I don’t even have a plan.

All I know is I don’t like this.

“Didn’t realize you were taking applications tonight,” I interject, my voice even and controlled.

Wyatt’s head snaps over to mine, her eyes narrowing.

She raises a brow. “Excuse me?”

Knox glances between us, confused but not stupid. He steps back slightly. Wyatt doesn’t, though. Instead, she crosses her arms, tilts her head at me, wearing that same damn smirk that always makes me want to kiss her or argue with her—or both.

“Something you need, Kinnick?”

I take a slow sip of my drink, pretending I’m not two seconds away from dragging her away from him.

“Nope. Just checking in. Making sure you weren’t about to do something reckless.”

Her lips part, eyes flashing like she can’t believe I had just said that. Then she laughs, sharp and mocking.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”

I shrug, shifting my weight like I’m totally unaffected. Like I’m not imagining closing the space between us and pulling her away from him—just because I can.

“Hey, you were the one talking about making bad decisions earlier.”

“True.” She tilts her head, gaze locked on mine. “Yet somehow, you always seem to be the worst one.”

Knox coughs like he knows he shouldn’t be here for this. He mutters something about grabbing another drink and disappears into the crowd.

Neither of us acknowledges it.

I take a step closer.

So does she.

Neither of us is willing to back down. I lower my voice just enough so only she can hear.

“Then why do you keep making it?”

For a split second, something flickers in her eyes. She tenses, her breath catching—just for a moment. But just as fast, she shakes her head, like she’s shaking me off. Like I’m something she can just ignore.

When she speaks, her voice is flat. Emotionless.

“Enjoy the party, Zane.”

And then she’s gone, slipping into the crowd before I can say something I’ll regret.

Too bad I already regret letting her walk away.

I should let it go. I should turn around, find someone else to talk to, pour another drink, and pretend she’s just another face at this party.

But I don’t.

Instead, my eyes track her across the field, locking onto the way she moves, the way she tilts her head back, laughing at something Tate says, the way she looks like she doesn’t have a single thought about me in her head.

It pisses me off.

I toss back the rest of my drink, drowning whatever this feeling is in another. And then another.

Before I know it, I’m leaning against one of the pavilion pillars, letting some girl I don’t care about press against me, her giggle cutting through the haze of alcohol and frustration.

She smells like vanilla and cheap liquor, but the only thing I can think about is how she doesn’t smell like Wyatt.

I close my eyes, exhaling hard. This is stupid. I’m being stupid. But I let it happen anyway. Because if I can’t have the one person I actually want, I might as well make a bad decision and pretend it doesn’t matter.

The laugh is fake. The hands on me are all wrong. I don’t know this girl’s name and don’t care to learn it. She’s talking, her voice sugary sweet in my ear, fingers sliding down my arm like she has any idea what she’s doing. I should be into it.

I should be focused on the girl in front of me.

I should be paying attention to the way she leans in, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along my arm, the way her laugh is just loud enough to make sure everyone hears it.

But I don’t. Because I see her.

Wyatt. My firecracker.

Standing just outside the pavilion, frozen for a second too long. Her expression is blank, but I know her too well. Her lips are pressed too tightly, like she’s fighting to keep them that way.

She stares right at me, then flicks her gaze to the girl pressed against my front, her eyes tracking every detail—the way I let it happen, the way I don’t stop it.

And then, she’s gone, turning on her heel so fast like she can’t get away quick enough. Not a word. Not a glare. Not a damn thing except the sharp cut of her shoulders, the quick pace of her steps, and the way she pushes through the crowd like the air just turned suffocating.

It shouldn’t bother me. I shouldn’t care that she’s leaving.

I sure as hell shouldn’t feel like she just took every ounce of oxygen with her when she walked away.

But I do.

And as the feeling claws its way through my chest, I realize I’m the one making bad decisions tonight. I’ve been making them for years.

From the corner of my eye, I see Tate trailing her. But before she disappears, she glances over her shoulder and glares at me. The look on her face says she saw everything. She knows exactly what I was trying to do.

And that I just fucked up—again.

I turn back to the girl in front of me, but suddenly, I can’t even remember why she’s here.

I mutter something about needing another drink, stepping away before she can stop me.

Not that it matters. Because the only girl I want to chase is already gone.

And the worst part?

I know damn well I don’t deserve to go after her.