Page 61 of Connor

Fuck.

Heart hammering, I scrambled for my phone, my fingers shaking as I typed.

Summer:Vic’s here, I’ll message you when he’s gone.

The second the message was sent, I took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

Vic stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, a bag slung over his arm. His brows lifted slightly as he took me in, and I knew he saw the tears. His expression hardened, then softened as he took in the hoodie and the sweatpants I was wearing, then his mouth twitched slightly and he shook his head. "Seriously? You answer the door looking like a damn gremlin?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nice to see you too."

He smirked and pushed past me, dropping his bag onto the couch like he’d already decided he was staying. "Well, since my little sister is apparently dodging my calls, I figured I’d take matters into my own hands."

I was tense. "Vic—"

He waved a hand. "Nope. I’m here for a brotherly intervention. You don’t get to argue. I took leave for the weekend. You and me, kiddo. Just like old times."

I forced a smile, trying to shove down the unease rising in my chest. I just needed to keep him distracted. Keep him from—Vic went silent and I frowned, stopping behind him.

“Would you move, damnit?” I cursed, bumping him with my hip as I scowled up at him. “Dude, what’s wrong with you?”

His whole posture had shifted, his stance going rigid, his expression darkening in real time as his eyes flicked around the living room. And that’s when I saw it too. The boots by the door. Connor’s boots. The hoodie slung over the couch. A favorite of Connor’s, one that had taken precedence after he thought he’d lost the one I was currently wearing. Then there was the bag sitting in the corner, and the rumpled book on the side table.

Vic’s expression hardened, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. His gaze landed on the mess of evidence scattered around my apartment, each item screaming what I hadn’t told him.

And then, slowly, he turned back to me,

His voice was low. Too calm.

"Summer," he said, his stare pinning me in place. "Explain."

My stomach twisted into knots.

Shit.

My heart pounded against my chest, my fingers curling into the hem of Connor’s hoodie like it was a shield. But nothing could protect me from this.

From Vic.

From the way his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. From the way his hands fisted at his sides, his nostrils flaring as his gaze cut into me like a knife.

I should have hidden it all. Should have thought this through. But I hadn’t. I’d been too busy trying to avoid him, too busy drowning in my own fucked-up emotions to think about what would happen when he finally saw the truth staring him right in the face. And now it was, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I could see him slowly realizing something, but I bet he wasn’t close to the full extent of how badly Connor and I had fucked up together.

His chest rose and fell in sharp, angry breaths. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I swallowed hard. "Vic—"

He didn’t let me finish.

His bag hit the floor with a dull thud as he stormed out, yanking the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. My pulse spiked in panic as I stumbled after him, my breath coming too fast, too shaky as I grabbed his arm.

"Wait—wait, where are you going?"

He wrenched free, his entire body vibrating with barely restrained fury. "Where do you think, Summer? I’m going to find that piece of shit and beat his fucking face in."

My stomach plummeted.

"Vic, no! He’s your best friend," I shoved past him, planting myself in front of the door, blocking his path. "You can’t—"

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