Page 119 of Guarded Love

"I'll buy you ten new pairs." His eyes are soft as he looks at me. "Twenty if you want."

"Such a gentleman, offering to replace the clothes you destroyed." I shift slightly and we both inhale sharply at the sensation. "Though I have to say, that was worth a pair of leggings."

"Just one pair?" He raises an eyebrow. "I'm insulted."

I laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Fine, it was worth my entire wardrobe."

We fall into comfortable silence again, and I let myself enjoy this moment of peace before reality creeps back in. It’s then I realize I’ve come to a decision. "Blaise," I say quietly as I play with the strings of his hoodie. "We don’t have to talk about this now, but I think I’m ready to talk about us and how we should approach Knox.”

He does a double-take. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Well, yeah." I meet his eyes but my confidence takes a small dive. "I mean, we can't keep sneaking around forever. And this...what we just did...it feels like more than just fooling around, doesn't it?"

"It is. For me, at least." He pauses, studying my face. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? That this is more than physical and that we are in a relationship?”

"I mean...isn't it? Unless you’re hooking up with other?—”

"Don’t even fucking say it," he says firmly. "There’s been no one else since you and it was a while before that."

I remember him saying that and it calms me down. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page, but before we talk about Knox, we need to get cleaned up. I refuse to talk about my brother with your cock inside me.”

That makes Blaise chuckle. “Deal.”

35

WILLOW

It’s almost eleven P.M. and my dorm room looks like a complete and unmitigated disaster. Clothes are everywhere, including my bed, my desk chair, and the floor where I threw them after changing outfits three times this morning. Textbooks are scattered across my desk like I actually had the motivation to study tonight, which is a complete lie.

I can't focus on anything. Can't sit still. Can't stop replaying the conversation with Lilly and Leo’s manager from several days ago. My mind won’t stop. I try reading, then doomscrolling, then rearranging the chaos into some other formation of chaos, but nothing sticks for more than a minute. I’m so deep into the next round of self-loathing that I don’t hear my phone vibrate until it does it twice in rapid fire. I freeze. I count to three. I flip the phone.

Ari: Hey. You up?

Ari: I know you are.

I don’t answer. I don’t even open the notification. Instead, I try to guess what she’s going to say before the next text arrives.

Ari: Just watch this. Sorry.

My phone buzzes again and this time it’s a link. Now I know Ari wouldn’t send me a link that would lead to some bad shit, but I don’t want to click it.

My gut is screaming at me to open it while my heart is telling me to delete it and pretend Ari never sent it. That way I can crawl under my covers and disappear until morning. Because there’s a good chance that wherever this link leads me to, I won’t be getting a wink of sleep tonight.

In situations like this, I’ve learned that I need to listen to my gut because she will never lead me wrong. I tap the link.

The video loads instantly. Leo's face fills my screen, that same cocky grin I remember from when we were together. He's in his usual streaming setup: gaming chair, neon lights, energy drink strategically placed for sponsorship visibility. His chat is moving too fast to read, but I can see the hearts and fire emoji flooding the sidebar.

"—I mean, look," he's saying, gesturing broadly at his camera, "some people will literally do anything for attention these days. Anything." He shakes his head. "It's honestly kind of sad when you think about it. Like, imagine being so desperate to stay relevant that you have to..." he trails off with a knowing smirk, letting his audience fill in the blanks.

My stomach drops through the floor because I know exactly what he’s talking about. He doesn't say my name. He doesn’t have to. That's Leo's specialty. Say just enough and then let his fanbase connect the dots. That way, they can draw their own conclusions while he maintains plausible deniability. But we both know exactly who he's talking about. The timing isn't coincidental. Nothing with Leo ever is.

And that’s when it hits me: he fucking knows. Not just generally, not through gossip. He knows because someone told him. Dorian said the review would be confidential. Talia looked me in the eye and said she’d make sure we got the justice we deserved. But here he is, mocking us live to thousands of people.

Somehow, it’s her betrayal that stings more. Because I thought she saw us. Because for a second, I believed she meant it.

It’s clear they both lied straight to our faces and now Leo is getting rewarded because of it. New sponsors. More engagement. Because the only thing that matters is protecting their golden goose and burying anything that could force the money train to stop.

“But hey," he continues, taking a sip from his energy drink, label pointed toward the camera so we can all read it clearly, "I'm not here to throw shade at anyone. I'm just saying, some people need to learn when to let go, you know? Like, move on already.” He laughs, and the sound makes my skin crawl. "Anyway, enough about that drama. Let's get back to the game."

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