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“What’s with the faces?” he asks.
“Just Nico being a grade-A prick,” I tell him, as Harlow remains quiet. Nico’s been snapping and shouting at everyoneand everythingsince this training camp started, and I’m sick of his shit.
“Something’s wrong with him,” Sawyer concludes, but I scoff.
“Maybe he is just a grade-A prick.”
Sawyer shakes his head as Harlow replies for him. “He never used to be.”
“We’ve known him for years—Harlow better than me—and he’s always been decent. Yeah, he was a bit reserved, but he got along with everyone and was fun to shoot the shit with whenever I went in and Harlow was busy.”
“He’s like a completely different person,” Harlow adds. “I want to believe there’s a reason for it, but if he won’t tell us, then there’s no point. We have to accept this is who he is now.”
“Have you tried to talk to him?” Sawyer asks, and Harlow’s eyes flick down. “Don’t feel guilty,” he warns. “I’m just wondering how he was one-on-one.”
“She shouldn’t have to approach him,” I argue. “He’s like an angry fucking rottweiler at the moment.”
“I’m not saying she has to,” he replies slowly. “I was just curious.”
“Guys, let’s not argue,” Harlow says with a soft sigh. “Especially not about someone who clearly doesn’t care about us.”
“There’s no way that guy doesn’t care about you.” Somehow, my words seem to hurt her more.
“Well, he’s got a funny way of showing it.”
Sawyer goes to say something, but I’m already tired of him defending Nico.
“Why are you Nico’s biggest fucking fan all of a sudden?”
“I’m not,” he grits, rapidly losing patience with me. “I just remember whenIwas inadvertently hurting Harlow and needed a push.”
“This isn’t the same thing.”
“How do you know that?”
“You were trying to protect her,” I remind him. “He’s dragged her into his shit and has now essentially abandoned her.”
“I don’t need chaperoning,” Harlow reminds me with a glare.
“I’m not saying that.”
She folds her arms. “What are you saying, then? ’Cause I know full well what he’s done, thanks.”
I run my hand down my face in exasperation. This is the last thing I want to do—argue with her, or even Sawyer.
“I hate seeing him have this effect on you when he doesn’t fucking deserve it.”
“What if he does?” she asks quietly, the words barely making it past her lips.
“How does he? Dropping you like a hot stone without explanation, bringing you back from his familydruggedwithout explanation?”
“Ezra,” Sawyer warns, but I’m on a roll.
“Letting you fret over what happened and only telling you when it suited him so he could enroll you in his team, which is the complete opposite of what you wanted, and now acting like an asshole every time he bothers to actually speak to you?”
“Ezra—”
“What, Sawyer? Since when do you let people get away with treating Harlow that way?”
