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I try to speak, but my lips remain sealed despite my best efforts. Haze is looking right at me, not even slightly bothered by the countless eyes set on us. He looks breathtaking. Facts are facts. My miserable brain might’ve tried to convince itself that he isn’t all that during the past few days, but it didn’t stick one bit. It’s clear now that I’ve been lying to myself.

He’s all that and more.

Dark circles reside under his eyes, giving away that he hasn’t been sleeping as much as he should. Is he half as messed up as I am? Is it because of the breakup?

Relax, Winter. Maybe this is just a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to be at the same place and he texted you.

You blocked him, dumbass. That would mean he got a new number just to text you.

Yeah, definitely not a coincidence.

Please don’t walk toward me.

Please don’t walk toward me.

And… he’s walking toward me.

Does my brain still function? I’m not sure. This freaking guy. He could straight-up ask me if I like cheese and still make me doubt my capacity to speak English. He stops next to us, and Ryder’s face flutters in shock. I assume mine is worse.

“Still hanging out with this asshole, I see.” He stares at Ryder like he’s hoping it will make him disappear. “Going undercover to ruin a relationship—that’s low, dude. Even for scums like the East side.”

God, I missed his voice.

I don’t bother questioning how he knows about Ryder’s stunt. He’s still the West side’s main, which according to Kendrick is just a less formal way to say leader, and his guys probably filled him in the second he came back into town. Will told me the East side rebounding after Blake’s betrayal was the talk of the street fighting community for a while after we left.

I almost forgot, while we were away, about this whole street fighting mess. For a second there, when Haze kissed me the night of the storm, he was just a guy I’d fallen in love with. Not the leader of the West side, not a dangerous heartbreaker with attachment issues. We were just two stupid kids living the dream.

Until reality came settling in and we were forced to wake up.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, avoiding his persistent gaze on me.

“We need to talk.” His voice is firm, low.

I want to say no, but the mere sight of his blue eyes, that are crammed with guilt, is enough to change my mind. I know it won’t make things better. We’re hopeless. We were hopeless from the very second Riley came back, but I still tell myself that there’s no harm in one quick talk.

Ryder speaks on my behalf. “You wish. She’s done with you, man. Forget it.”

“I’ve punched you once—are you looking for round two? You still got one good eye. I’m down,” Haze threatens, and I know the girls at the table behind us are hanging on to every word. Ryder’s fists turn into weapons.

“Go ahead, try. You just got lucky last time.” He gets up.

This is not happening right now.

“Guys, stop.” I bounce up, place a hand on Ryder’s chest to stop him, and instantly feel Haze’s eyes burning where my fingers meet Ryder’s shirt.

“Seriously, Haze, why are you here?” I move my fingers away from Ryder, and Haze’s shoulders drop.

He exhales. “To fix the biggest mistake of my life.”

Man… why does he have to say things like that?

“Five minutes. That’s all I want,” he says when I don’t reply.

I take in a sharp breath.

“Five minutes,” I agree.

Haze’s face lights up like he’s surprised—no, in disbelief—that his begging actually worked. As for Ryder, he stares at me disapprovingly, but I overlook his drawn eyebrows and head to the door with my ex. The whispers following us like shadows make it clear that the news of Haze’s return will travel almost as fast as my heart is beating right now. Haze Adams back in town and after the new girl! Who knew he could care?

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