I tilt my head to the side, giving him one more chance toreallythink about this. It’s been a while since I’ve had to fight, but I will if I need to. For her.
But before it escalates, Sadie moves between us, one hand pressing flat to my chest.
It burns.
Emmett and Landon step in, voices low and urgent, trying to break this up before it explodes. Her hand drops from my chest like she’s finally letting go of something that was never really there to begin with.
I nod, forcing myself to look at her one last time—one last fucking time—just long enough to feel the final binding snap.
Then I turn and walk out.
Not because I want to, but because it’s the only thing I can still control. And because whatever was there, it’s over now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SADIE
IwatchasLandonfollows Wesley out of Lucky’s. The tension clinging to the air finally thins, but my pulse is still trying to punch its way out of my throat.
Lane tilts my chin, coaxing my gaze to his. I flinch before I can stop myself.
It’s not him—it’s me.
His touch is kind and patient and everything it should be.
But he isn’t Wesley.
“You okay?”
I nod, forcing a small smile. It’s not convincing—I can see it in his eyes—but he lets it go. He always lets it go.
The mood is shot, splintered somewhere between jealousy and guilt. Brantley’s making his rounds for last call, so the guys wave him over to settle up their tabs.
While we wait, Lydia hooks her fingers around my arm and pulls me aside.
“What the fuck was that?” she asks in disbelief. “Are you okay—like,actuallyokay?”
“I think so.” My voice sounds foreign in my own ears. “Or…I will be.”
She nods slowly, skeptical. “I can’t believe Wesley lost it like that. He’s usually the calm one.” Her brows pinch together. “But then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What do you mean?”
She arches her brow, waiting for me to connect the dots. When I don’t catch on, she sighs.
“All I’m saying is, it’s not just Lane watching you like that.”
I blink at her. “You’ve officially lost your mind if you think Wesley hasanyfeelings for me other than extreme disdain.”
She shrugs, unbothered. “Deny it all you want. Doesn’t make it less true.”
Before I can respond, Lane’s arms circle my waist from behind, his familiar smoky scent wrapping around me. I pause for half a breath before I lean into him.
It’s easier this way—to choose him. To let him hold me and pretend I don’t wish they were someone else’s hands.
I don’t want tonight to spiral into something it’s not. Wesley doesn’t get to steal this from me.
At least Lane is sober and kept his head. I can’t even imagine how much worse it could’ve been if they’d both been drinking.
