Page 34 of The Hearts We Fumble
I fold my arms tight across my chest, willing my pulse to slow the hell down. “Colter came over a little bit ago. You told him about running into me in Keaton?”
Zane’s arms drop to his sides, his nostrils flaring slightly.
“Yeah, I did.” His voice is even and matter-of-fact, like it’s not a big deal at all.
Heat pricks my skin, my hands balling into tight fists. “Why the hell would you do that? It’s none of his business where I go or what I do.”
And it’s not even the fact that Colter knows where I was—because, of course, my brother would lose his shit over me partying with a bunch of Keaton football players.
It’s the fact that Zane ran to him about it.
Like I’m some kind of responsibility he has to report on.
Like I’m his problem.
The memory of last night surfaces—his interference at the bar, the way he stepped between me and the guy at Whiskey Sinner, the blatant lie he told about us.
Zane’s jaw tightens, and there’s something dark in his eyes as he levels me with a look.
“You’re mad at me?” His voice is low, sharp, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’re mad at me for running into you after your little walk of shame out of the Alpha Nu house, and you have the audacity to be pissed that I told your brother?”
Heat crawls up my neck, my skin burning.
The rage inside me roars to life, a fire too bright, too hot to contain.
I stomp my foot, childish but so damn necessary, and grit my teeth.
“Walk of shame? You have the nerve to talk down tome?”
Zane’s eyes darken, and I see it—the exact moment he remembers.
He knows damn well why that comment would send me over the edge.
Because two weeks after the night he kissed me and told me it was a mistake, I saw him standing outside some girl’s car in his driveway. Smirking. Flashing that same lazy charm that once had me believing he wanted me.
Two whole weeks.
And now he has the gall to act like he’s got a say in who I spend my nights with?
When she backed out of his driveway and disappeared down the street, he turned toward my yard.
His gaze locked onto mine like he could feel me watching him from across the way. Like he already knew what I was thinking before I had the chance to bury it.
We never spoke about it.
There was nothing to say.
I wasn’t his, and he sure as hell had made it clear he wasn’t mine. Getting jealous wouldn’t change a damn thing. Throwing a fit?Pointless.
So I swallowed the ache and did what I always did when it came to Zane Kinnick. I let it go.
But now, he has the audacity to look down on me? To act like I’m the one in the wrong for doing the same thing?
A fresh wave of anger ignites inside me.
Zane takes a step forward, and I take a step back.
His jaw flexes, his nostrils flaring, but he doesn’t stop advancing. His dark eyes scan my face, something unreadable flickering behind them.
