Her brows shoot up, disbelief flashing through her anger. “I didn’t need to know?”
I exhale slowly, my patience hanging by a fucking thread. This is not going how I thought it would go.
“Would it have changed anything? If I told you the first night?” I let the words settle, letting her sit with them. “I didn’t lie to you, Raven. I just didn’t give you something when you wanted it.”
She shakes her head, letting out a slow, disbelieving breath. “Of course it changes things, Kane. I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t even know you.”
She throws her hands up in frustration, pacing a few steps before spinning back, her voice colder now. “I’m not interested in being around someone who thinks information is only shared when it suits them.”
She looks right at me, and her eyes are blazing. “I know we’re not talking about a relationship here, but lying? Deception? Selective sharing? They’re all the same.”
I take one step closer, my voice is quiet but lethal. “I don’t know anything about you either.”
She spins around, her sarcasm biting. “Oh, I'm sorry, do you not have an envelope withmyfucking name on it telling you exactly who I am?”
My hands flex at my sides, the restraint it takes not to grab her and show her exactly how much her fire is turning me on is grating against my instincts.
“Look, you’re great,” she continues, “I've enjoyed spending time with you, I really have. But you lied to me, and you pried into my life just because you could.”
She turns toward the door, and the lights flicker. I can hear the thunder rolling in the distance, deep and foreboding.
Her grip tightens on the handle. “I’m going home now.”
She doesn’t turn around and doesn’t wait for a response. She just steps into the hall, leaving me standing there with the weight of everything unspoken pressing down like a fucking wrecking ball.
This is why I keep people at arm’s length. Not because I don’t get it. Not because I don’tunderstandwhy she’s pissed. But because this is exactly what happens when you let people close to you.
I catch up to her before she makes it to the main doors, my hand hovering just shy of her arm. “Raven, wait.”
She stops, turning slowly. Her eyes are wild, and I can see the frustration burning behind them, but there’s something else, something unsettled.
“Look, Kane,” she starts. “I'm not here to drag this into an argument. I don’t really care that much. I just need to go home and… process everything.”
I stay silent, watching her.
She exhales sharply. “Yeah, I'm pissed. And yeah, I know you probably think I have no right to be, but I am.” Her jaw tightens. “So I'm just going to go home, sleep on it, and maybe then… I’ll know what to say.”
She takes a step, then stops abruptly. Like she wants to say something but won’t let herself. The lights flick again, and the shadows in the hall stretch across her face. Whatever thought was lingering on her lips, she swallows it.
Then, just like that, she’s walking away.
And I let her. For a second.
“Raven,” I call after her, my voice cutting through the silence.
She slows, glancing back over her shoulder, looking annoyed.
“Cam took Rachel home.” I hold up my phone. “Let me at least give you a ride.”
Her lips press into a thin line, looking back down the hall. “No, thank you.”
That small detail gets under my skin. I’d prefer her to be angry. At least then, I know where I stand. “Well, I guess we’ll talk in the morning, then. I’ll take you to your room.”
Thunder rumbles outside. I can tell the storm is on the verge of breaking, which means she's not going out alone.
She turns, facing me fully. Fire and heat flashing in her eyes. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I’ll just grab an Uber.”
I try my hardest to hide the smirk tugging at my lips. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to let her get an Uber. “I’ll have your driver out front, he’ll take you home.”
