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I laughed. “Don’t take that literally.”

“No way Cloe did,” Xander interjected before telling someone else where he was on the game map. I realized he was in a private chat when Dougie and Grave’s gamer tags appeared in the corner of the screen too.

“She’s got a mouth on her,” Rook agreed, tapping something on his phone. “It’s never vulgar. Makes you feel stupid and educated at the same time.”

That was Cloe to a T—sharp-witted and articulate without ever raising her voice. The only time she got loud was when she was cheering for us or one of the girls. I couldn’t recall a single time I had ever witnessed her yell.

“By the way, Sarah was looking for you earlier,” Cade tossed out, circling back around our sectional.

“She knew Macy was coming here and took that as a free pass to try and do the same.”

That garnered looks from each of us that were collectively unimpressed. She was grasping at straws now that Deadweight and her other pawn weren’t panning out like she expected them to. If the dumb bitch thought being part of my past, however brief, gave her any claim to my present, she was going to be assisted in finding a permanent exit.

“I sicked Zoe on her since I’m not really the type to threaten women,” my brother added.

Zoe and Nick both made sounds, calling bullshit.

He was, in fact, full of shit. Cade didn’t discriminate by gender. “That’s one way to handle it.”

I had gotten used to seeing Zoe here, casually folded in like a place setting. Her dark green waves framed her face, the color striking against her pale skin. Her hair was piled on topof her head in a messy bun, but a few loose strands framed her cheekbones like they had a mind of their own. She wore one of Cade’s oversized hoodies, sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

We’d been keeping subtle tabs on her since the night everything went down with Chess Club, and had come to realize she was observant and as into tech as Xander. Nick had practically dragged her here, insisting she needed to ‘hang out’ with him. Once Damon had been caught up on all things Crowsfell, he was the one who suggested we keep her close for the time being. He somehow knew gaming would be the perfect icebreaker and excuse to keep her at the house.

The second they handed her a controller, she was chill as could be.

She had yet to ask a single question about what happened the other night. Didn’t press for any details. She either knew better or genuinely didn’t give a fuck. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, it was refreshing to have a girl here who wasn’t angling for secrets or chasing proximity for clout.

She hadn’t said one bad word about the others either. If anything, she seemed to like them, but lacked the confidence to approach. I could already see her fitting in the same way Sassy’s friend Olivia did. We needed to let the girls know she was around first, though. They all knew Zoe from high school, and Roxxi presently had an elective with her, but they could be just as territorial as we were. The last thing I needed was Sanjana getting the wrong idea about this, too. At minimum, she’d be around until what remained of Chess Club was found, so we could see how she handled it.

My phone went off again. I didn’t need to check to know who it was. I finally read the last message—and the one she’d just sent.

Sassy

Why would you leave me like this? I’m going to try and go to bed. I don’t know how you expect me to sleep now. If I don’t see you at home, we can catch up next week.

I stared at the screen, trying to make sense of it. The first message I could take in a hundred different ways, but if it meant what I thought it did, this was her being direct for once, and that sent my thoughts into a spiral.

We’d agreed to wait.

Fuck.

For a split second, I considered getting back in my truck and going to her. I quickly consoled myself with the reminder that this was only for one more night. The entire weekend and soon enough, every day after, she would be in my bed, which was why the second message rubbed me the wrong way. What the fuck did she mean next week? She was supposed to ride back with us. We had a routine, one unspoken but understood.

I knew what she was doing.

She hadn’t pulled this shit in far too long to start doing it now, but it was on par for her M.O. When shit gets too real, she folds into herself, distances, and her overthinking comes into full effect. I loved her. Every inch. Every flaw. But thisonefucking trait that made me want to pour a stiff drink or put my head through a wall. I wasn’t sure what made her think this shit would work in her favor, if she was thinking much at all.

It hadn’t worked in kindergarten when she ignored me on the playground for giving another girl her favorite crayon. It didn’t work in elementary school either, when she gave me the silent treatment for three days because I told her Jurassic Park wasn’t real. I bribed her into talking to me with a pack of Mrs. Fields cookies. It didn’t work in middle school, when she thought I liked the new girl, and then later slapped said girl in the face with a bottle of Elmer’s during art for saying somethingnegative about me. The only time she semi got away with it was in high school, right after I got my first girlfriend, Ellie Newton.

We were past all of that now.

She’d already given me the words she was in, not that I left her much of a choice. I had let her speak her peace. It was only fair I spoke mine.

She thought she still got to run?

Fuck that.

“She’s not serious,” Cade commented, reading our text over my shoulder. He dropped down beside me on the couch. “You’re not letting her drive, right?”

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