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“No—” I croak, but he’s already squeezing.

Thankfully, Orion steps in and pries him away from me. “Your mama’s fine, bud. Promise.”

“Are you?” Maverick asks. “Are you fine?”

I pat my chest and nod. “Yeah, I just swallowed wrong. I’m good. Promise.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” Stella warns as she rises from her stool.

A weak laugh escapes me. How silly of me to hope she’d let it go. The girl might be blonde, but she’s no Elsa.

“What’s that mean?” Maverick tugs on the hem of my shirt. “Off the hook?”

“It’s when—”

Stella cuts me off. “It means your mama and I were talking, and she thinks because you and Orion came in here that our conversation’s over. But she’s wrong.” She grins evilly as she refills her cup. “We’re just getting started.”

“Grab your backpack, okay?” I say to Maverick, expressly ignoring Stella.

I finish my coffee, refusing to make eye contact with either of the Cartwrights in the room.

It’s clear neither of them are pleased with me, but Orion’s much more vocal about it as he slides onto Stella’s vacated stool and then gets all up into my personal space.

His nearness has my hackles up, and I freeze in place, hoping that maybe if I don’t move, he won’t touch me.

“How long you gonna be mad?”

“I’m not mad,” I say woodenly. And it’s true—at least not at him. The only person I’m really upset with is me. I know better than to let people in. I know better than to open myself up to that kind of heartache. Which is why I need to shut him out, once and for all.

And maybe, just maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll still get to keep him as Birdie. I’d rather that than for Maverick to lose him if things went poorly between us.

“Seem pretty mad to me.” He leans even closer, brushing my hair away from my face so he can whisper in my ear. “You’re like an angry little robot. Where’s your fire, Frankie?”

My entire body is shaking—whether it’s with the urge to lean into his touch or to explode like a supernova, I’m not sure. I take a deep breath and force a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leans back, crossing his strong arms over his chest. He’s wearing a Henley with the sleeves pushed up. His forearms look delicious—not that I’m looking. “So, it’s like that, huh?”

I shrug and avert my gaze to my coffee, studying the dark liquid like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen.

“That’s fine.” He stands from the stool, and my entire body deflates. At least we’re finally on the same page.

But then he moves so far into my space, I can feel the heat of his body as he leans down, bringing his lips flush with my ear. “You wanna play it cool, go for it. But I’m not giving up. Even icebergs melt, Frankie.”

“Pssh. It takes months for them to melt.”

“What’s months when I’m thinking of years?”

“Who are you?” I demand, my frustration rising. “What is this? Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“This!” I gesture between us. “Like we’re together. We’re friends, Orion. Friends.”

“We could be more, though,” he says, right as Maverick enters the kitchen.

“You ready, Mama?”

All of my fight leaves me as I paste on a happy smile. “Ready, bud.” And then I turn to Orion, my face carefully neutral. “No,” I whisper, “we can’t.”

Stella clears her throat—and it’s then I realize our entire conversation just played out with an audience. Kill me now.

“Y’all wanna ride with me?” she asks, her blue eyes flicking between her brother and me.

“Yes!” Maverick screeches, pumping a fist in the air.

At the same time, I say, “No thanks. I have things to do between classes and need my car.”

“So, no lunch either.” She eyes me with suspicion.

“Nope.” I clench my hands at my sides, hating every moment of this, but it’s the way things need to be. Friends. Roommates. Nothing more.

No hair braiding, no sleepovers, no spilling secrets.

No late nights, no kisses, no romance.

She and Orion exchange knowing looks, but I ignore them.

“C’mon, Mav.” I usher him toward the door. “We gotta go or we’ll be late.”

He grumbles under his breath but does as he’s told.

Friends… Roommates… Nothing more. I repeat the words in my head for the rest of the morning.

Maybe if I say them enough, they’ll stick.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ORION

I drum my fingers against my steering wheel and try to convince myself I’m not doing anything wrong.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel like I am.

“Just get out and go inside,” I mutter out loud in the empty cab of my truck. But only silence answers me, and somehow, it’s like it’s mocking me.

It’s no use though—I can’t seem to make myself do it.

Except, I have to, because even though our relationship—fuck, it’s not even a relationship; I’m just her client. Most likely one of many. But still, I can’t help but feel like explaining to her that I’ve met someone is the right thing to do.

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