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Maybe she’s in the bathroom. Maybe Nova was wrong, and she’s not even up here.
She’s already mad at me.
Breaking down doors won’t help.
But I’ve heard the horror stories about what happens to girls at wild parties. And I would never forgive myself if that happened to Cassia.
The fourth door opens, but the room isn’t empty.
Cassia glances over from her seat at the end of the bed, then away.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I know.” I exhale, relief coursing through me. Close the door. Lock it behind me.
She doesn’t react as I walk over and take a seat on the opposite side of the bed, leaving plenty of distance between us.
I stare at the posters on the walls.
Whoever lives in here, they’ve got shitty taste in art.
The silence lasts for a few minutes before she speaks.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” Her voice is all snark.
“Nope.” I pop the P.
“It’s not even midnight.Plentyof time to get wasted and crawl into a hot blonde’s bed.”
I know she’s mad.
I know I fucked up.
But I’m glad she’s facing away from me so she can’t see my smile. God, I love her.
“It shouldn’t have happened, and I should have told you that it did. But—”
“I saidI don’t want to talk, okay? Respect that or leave.”
“Okay,” I say, quietly.
I don’t know how much time passes before Cassia lies down on the bed.
I don’t know how much time passes after she does.
My phone keeps buzzing in my pocket, but I don’t pull it out.
I just sit on the side of the bed, my elbows resting on my knees in the same pose as the rare times I sit on the bench.
Staring at the signage for a band I’ve never heard of that features skulls and roses, waiting until she’s ready to talk.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
CASSIA
He hasn’t left.
I keep waiting for him to leave, but he hasn’t.
