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“Leave it, man,” I hear Harrison say.
“Don’t talk to me, Baker,” Holden responds.
I drink more after listening to that exchange. Heat trickles lazily into my veins as I sense him approaching me. I spin and stare him down, my gaze defiant as I drain the rest of the cup.
Awareness simmers and crackles between us.
“There you are, Holden. Why did you—oh.”
Everything in me tenses as Grace appears, slipping her arms around Holden’s waist. He doesn’t lean into her touch, but he sure as hell doesn’t push her away.
My eyes prick, exhaustion and emotion overwhelming me. I’m not going to cry again, though. Not here, not in front of him.
I set my empty cup on the counter. Take a step forward and rise on my tippy-toes. Holden inhales sharply as the space between us shrinks down to inches.
“His dick is bigger than yours,” I whisper in his ear.
Then I walk away, out of the kitchen, not turning around once. Not even when I hear something crash behind me.
I need to get the hell out of here before I do anything else I’ll regret.
I don’t make it far, though. I weave through the living room and end up on the front porch.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and call my home number.
My mom answers. “Cassia?”
“Hi, Mom. Can you come pick me up?”
I wait for the disappointment, but all I hear in her voice is understanding. “Of course. Text me the address, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I hang up and send her my location. Take a seat on the railing and stare up at the sky. It’s a clear night. All the starsseem visible, sprinkled through the heavens as pinpricks of light. Beautiful and massive.
The front door opens a few minutes later. Harrison steps out.
I give him a sheepish smile. “I’m really sorry about all that.”
“Don’t apologize, Cassia.”
“Bet you regret inviting me.”
“No, I don’t,” he tells me, earnest. “Do you regret coming?”
“I haven’t decided yet, honestly. I was hoping for some closure.”
“I don’t think closure is something to hope for. Either you want it, or you don’t.”
“Are you saying I don’t want it?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
I glance up at the stars again. “I want to want it. Does that count?”
When I look at him again, Harrison is smiling. “No. It doesn’t.”
My phone buzzes in my lap. I look down to see a message from my mom. Our blue minivan is visible between two of the cars parked directly in front of the house. “My mom is here. I texted her after I started drinking.”
