Page 22 of The Encore’s Crown

My hand drags over my jaw. Take it back, you idiot. Just take it back. But now I’m cornered, and stupid, and feeling defensive because she’s not wrong enough. Now I feel exposed because she walked right up to the ugliest little part of it and put her finger on the truth, that maybe I didn't see a future in this, only a good time. At least, at first.

“I mean, don’t act like none of this matters,” I say, gesturing to me, the club, Seoul below us. “It's why you sent me a message in the first place.”

Her eyes narrow, so piercing she could stab me with them. That's a warning sign. A massive one, flashing red. Sirens blaring, an evacuate immediately announcement. But for some reason, I keep going anyway.

“You did act like a groupie. What was I supposed to think? It's not like we were ever gonna get married or something.” I scoff at the idea but it's just bravado. Pretending at being casual for the hell of it. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I guess I'm trying to commit suicide via a whirl of dyed-blonde hair and rage at this point.

The terrace goes silent, between us, everything stops. She glares at me. She looks at me like something in her has just stepped back, crossed its arms, and decided I’m not worth the heat.

Fix it, moron. What the fuck are you doing?

“Natalia—”

She steps in and jabs one finger into the center of my chest. I don’t flinch. I just stand there and take it, because I deserve it, and because if she touches me in anger at least she’s still touching me. That’s how fucked up this is.

“So, let me get this straight. You were all in when we might just fuck a few times between L.A. and Seattle, but now?” Her laugh comes out brittle. “Now, that it might mean something, now that Rafe and my sister are actually in love and not just having some fling, suddenly I’m a problem?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s exactly what you meant. Don’t you dare stand there acting like you were the mature one,” she says. “Like you were saving me from your dark, damaged soul or whatever the fuck you rehearse in hotel mirrors.”

Despite everything, that one almost gets a laugh out of me. It’s accurate enough to be humiliating.

“You loved me wanting you,” she says. “You loved me saying all those things to you."

My eyes flash with the truth of it before I can stop them. Her chest is rising and falling too fast now, but her voice stays determined, unrelenting.

“But now I’m here, not just some message on your phone, and suddenly you’ve discovered morals.”

“That's not fair.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her eyes go glacial. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

The cold whips around us, but heat pulses between us with nowhere to go. Anger has always been too close to attraction with her. Every word feels like a touch. Every insult is one step nearer to the edge.

I look away, then I turn back to her.

“I wanted it to be simple.”

“No,” she says instantly. “You wanted it to be meaningless.”

“Yes,” I snap. “Yes. Fine. Is that what you want me to say? I wanted it to be meaningless because wanting you was already a very bad idea. Because you're Kasia’s sister. Because you were online and far away. Even if you're funny and beautiful and said things that got under my skin, I could tell myself it wasn’t real enough to ruin anything.”

Her throat tightens. I step closer, then stop myself before I do something worse, hands flexing uselessly at my sides.

“And then it got real anyway… but this?” I shake my head. “Us? It can’t happen. Rafe didn’t ask me to back off nicely, you know?” The words taste like regret even as I speak them. “He told me this was off limits. He broke my phone just for talking to you.”

Natalia’s mouth parts in disbelief.

“He said you’re too young for me. That part’s true, Nat. We both know it.”

Her eyes widen. “Too young?”

“Natalia—”

“No.” She steps back like I’ve insulted her to her bones. “Kurwa. Bullshit.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “You’re twenty-three. I’m thirty-six. That’s—”