But to my surprise, when I turn around, Rick is already gone. The door of his bedroom closes with a soft click, and I feel a warm rush of satisfaction.
Good. He can go fuck himself.
I close our door, adrenaline still pounding through me, my heart hammering so hard it feels like it’s trying to break through my sternum. Through the wall, I can hear Cassidy talking, though I can’t make out a word over the pounding in my ears.
I cross to the bed, then sprawl across the covers, face up, staring at the exposed beams of the ceiling. I feel powerful and vengeful, and yet Rick’s words keep turning over in my head.
That’s fast.
Like I am the problem. Like I destroyed everything that we had.
And for some reason, I still feel like shit.
CHAPTER 6. Connor
The clink of silverware against china plates fills the room as I sit beside Noah at the massive oak dining table, trying not to make it obvious that I’m watching Rick across from us. He’s watching Noah when he thinks no one will notice, his perfect smile slipping just a fraction whenever Noah leans closer to me. I take a sip of wine—some expensive red that Daniel insisted everyone try—and let my knee press against Noah’s under the table. The roast beef on my plate is perfectly cooked, but I barely taste it, too focused on playing my part in this increasingly complicated charade.
“I’m just saying,” Maya announces to the table, waving her fork at me, “there was definitely some cheating happening in that lake.”
I look up at her, one eyebrow raised. “Cheating?”
“Yes!” She points her fork more emphatically, nearly sending a piece of roasted potato flying. “You conveniently forgot to mention you were basically Michael Phelps before challenging me to a race.”
Noah turns to me with a surprised look. “You raced Maya?”
“And destroyed her. Twice,” Daniel adds with a laugh, raising his glass in my direction.
“I thought you were just some gym rat who’d be useless in the water,” Maya continues, her expression dramatically wounded though her eyes sparkle with amusement. “And then you’re suddenly cutting through that lake like a damn torpedo.”
I shrug, fighting a smile. “I might have been on my high school swim team.”
“Might have been?” Maya scoffs.
“It was fifteen years ago,” I say, taking another sip of wine. “I didn’t think it would give me that much of an advantage.”
“Oh please,” Maya says, rolling her eyes. “Once a swimmer, always a swimmer. Those shoulders don’t lie.”
Noah chuckles beside me, his body relaxing a fraction. It’s the first real smile I’ve seen since we sat down for dinner, and something warm stirs in my chest at the sight of it.
“Well,” Daniel says, refilling his wine glass, “Noah was always the least athletic Caldwell growing up, so it’s probably good he found someone who balances him out.”
I feel Noah stiffen beside me, his smile faltering.
Caroline immediately jumps in, her voice sharp. “Daniel, that’s not true. Noah was on the track team in high school.”
“For one semester,” Daniel says, though his tone is affectionate rather than critical. “And only because you made him join an extracurricular.”
“He was also on the debate team,” Caroline adds. “And he won that regional competition his junior year.”
“Debate isn’t exactly a sport, dear.”
Noah shifts in his chair, his discomfort palpable as his parents talk about him like he’s not sitting right there. I slide my hand onto his knee under the table and give it a gentle squeeze.
“Noah actually rode really well earlier today,” I say, redirecting the conversation. “He’s a natural.”
Noah’s eyes dart to mine, surprised at the praise.
“You went riding?” Rick asks, looking up from his plate. The question is aimed at Noah, not me, as if I’m not even there.
