Chapter Seventeen
MILA
Ididn’t sleep. Not because of fear or everything circling us like sharks waiting for a drop of blood.
It was Luke. The way his arms had wrapped around me without expectation.
The steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against my back.
The hitch in my breath when he said he didn’t want to stop trying.
Even after he left, it lingered. His warmth. His weight. The echo of something I wanted too much. And I hated how much I wanted to believe it was real.
We’d texted on and off Saturday and Sunday—light things, safe things. It was different now, wanting to say more but knowing we couldn’t. The space between messages felt heavier than it should have, a kind of distance I didn’t love but understood we needed.
Saturday, 6:41 a.m.
Luke: Home. Didn’t get caught. Barely.
Me: Congrats on your stealth career.
Luke: Stealth is my backup plan if hockey fails.
Saturday, 6:03 p.m.
Luke: Did you paint?
Me: Sketched. Tried to sleep. Failed at both.
Luke: Same.
Sunday, 4:12 p.m.
Me: Went to the beach. It was a Mom day. No explosions. Calling it a win.
Luke: Send a photo.
Me: No evidence.
Luke: Coward.
Sunday, 11:17 p.m.
Luke: Goodnight, Callahan.
Me: Night, King.
I hovered over a dozen other things that didn’t make it onto the screen—nothing about Friday, nothing about the way it rewired something I didn’t know how to name. We were careful. It kept us safe. It also kept us at arm’s length in the exact place I didn’t want distance.
By Monday morning, my limbs dragged as though they were made of lead. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, toothbrush dangling from my mouth, fighting to keep my eyes open, my chain with the star charm glinting above the deep v of my shirt. I brushed a fingertip over it without thinking.
It felt dangerous. A secret I couldn’t tell. A bruise I couldn’t stop pressing.
The metal was cool against my skin, and the memory flashed quick—his mouth at my throat, his voice wrecked, the way his hands didn’t push so much as hold. Friday wasn’t an accident. It was a choice. Mine. I’d told him no lies, no games, and then I asked him to stay.
Want wasn’t the scary part. I’ve always wanted him.
The risk was what came after—the part where trust isn’t a vow but a muscle that needs reps and rest and the right kind of tension.
He’d given me all the checks I needed—steady hands, the pause for my nod, and leaving before my mom pulled in. He didn’t take. He partnered.
The mirror held my gaze when I admitted it: something in me had shifted. Not back to before—there is no before—but forward into a thing I can’t define without giving it more power than feels safe. I’m not ready to hand it that name. I’m not ready to hand him that weapon.
But I also wasn’t ready for the way my body kept remembering him while the rest of me rehearsed reasons to slow down. Partners. Not lovers. Not publicly. Not yet. Rules were a fence, but they didn’t erase what was inside it.
I traced the star again, a pulse under metal.
What was my choice, really? To align with Luke’s plans, to stay hidden even after everything had changed Friday night?
If I accepted that logic, it meant letting the star necklace mean what it used to—trust in us, in our future.
Not just a promise I’d broken but a decision to go slow—and about playing it smart.
“Stop it,” I muttered around a mouthful of toothpaste before spitting into the sink.
I knew better. I knew what happened when you let Luke King back in. Even if—for one night—he felt like home.
School hit me the second I walked through the doors—bright lights, voices bouncing off lockers, everything turned up too high.
I barely caught half of what Avery was saying when she joined me outside first period. Something about Elise whispering in corners again, someone’s name tossed around behind us, but it all slid past like background noise.
“You okay?” Avery’s voice cut through, softer than the noise. She slowed near my locker, her thick blond braid sliding over one shoulder as she looked at me.
“Fine.”
“Mila.”
“I said I’m fine.”
She didn’t push. But the silence that settled between us wasn’t natural. She didn’t believe me. And neither did I.
Second period was worse. The air in the classroom was too warm, pressing against my skin. My pen slipped against my notes, the ink smearing. My brain refused to hold on to dates and formulas, because all it wanted was to replay the night before.
My lips still tingled from the press of his; my heart sprinted with every glimpse of Luke in the hallways. The fragile truce. His crooked smile when he said it back. I’d meant it then, but that was before our so-called truth talk rewrote everything. And the worst part? I wanted to trust it again.
By lunch, I’d had enough of the cafeteria noise, so I ducked out under the oak tree on the lawn. The ground was cool, damp from sprinklers. My back rested against the rough bark, knees pulled tight as I picked apart a granola bar without tasting it.
Somewhere across campus, he was probably laughing with his friends. Hoodie thrown on after morning skate, hair still damp, pretending none of it touched him while I came apart at the seams.
But I knew better. Luke didn’t keep things shallow. He went deep, where it got complicated. And Friday night, he let me in.
Which made it worse that Avery found me, still tangled up in him, even when he wasn’t here.
“Mila.” Avery dropped down onto the grass beside me, stretching her legs out in front of her. She gripped a can of soda in one hand, the straw tapping against her thumb.
“Hey.” I tucked the wrapper into my pocket.
“You’ve been MIA since Friday. I was starting to wonder if I should file a missing person’s report.”
“Been busy.”
“Liar.” She nudged me with her shoulder before sipping her drink.
I was halfway to brushing it off when it hit me—I hadn’t asked her. I’d been so wrapped up in my own head all weekend, I’d completely forgotten. Heat crawled up my neck. “Wait. You went out with Jax after the game, right? How did I forget to ask you about that?”
Avery’s lips curved, amused. “Wow. Took you until lunch to remember? I’m wounded.”
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I was there when you two decided. I should’ve asked.”
“Yeah, you should’ve.” She leaned back against the tree, smug.
“Well?” I dropped my hands, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t make me drag it out of you. What happened?”
Her cheeks flushed, the soda can rolling between her palms. “We grabbed food. Just the two of us. It felt… different. He was easier to talk to than I expected. Funny. Not all swagger like he is with the team.”
“And?”
She hesitated then met my eyes. “And he told me he has feelings for me.”
The words landed with the weight of a stone in my stomach. “He actually said that?”
“Yeah. Straight up. No games.” She fiddled with the straw, restless. “But Chase…” Her voice trailed off.
“What about him?” I asked.
She blew out a breath, eyes flicking toward the football spiraling across the lawn. “He’s not going to take it well. Me and Jax. It’s the bro-code between them—I’m off limits. To him, Jax making a move is a major betrayal.”
I frowned. “It’s not his call, Avery.”
“Exactly.” Her chin tipped up, stubborn fire flashing. “I care about Chase, but he doesn’t get to police who I date. I’m not twelve. And honestly, it’s a little insulting he thinks he does.”
“So what happens when Jax finally steps up? Because he’s the one who needs to talk to Chase. He’s going after his friend’s sister—that’s on him.”
Avery’s mouth twitched, like she’d already pictured it. “He knows. He said he’ll tell him.” She hesitated then shook her head. “But even if he doesn’t, I will. I’m not hiding. Chase can either deal with it or not.”
She wasn’t hiding, even with Chase in the way. I wished I could be that bold with Luke, instead of drowning in second guesses. Relief uncoiled in my chest. That was Avery—the girl who didn’t back down once she’d decided something.
“You really care about him,” I said quietly.
Her smile was small but sure. “Yeah. I do.”
She studied me a second then tipped her head. “What about you and Luke? Be honest—what’s really going on there?”
I pulled my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. “I feel like I’m drowning.”
Avery blinked. “Metaphorical drowning or… actual water involved?”
A dry laugh slipped out. “Metaphorical. It’s Luke. It’s everything. The pull is still there, same as before, but we aren’t the same.” Not after Friday night. “And Elise…”
Avery rolled her eyes. “Don’t even get me started.”
“She’s a problem. And she’s not going away.”
“Nope,” Avery said. “But maybe she’ll accidentally fall down a sewer grate.”
I laughed, some of the tension in my chest lightening. “If only.”
She nudged me with her shoulder. “So? Partners? Friends? More?”
I shrugged, staring at the grass between my sneakers.
“Right now? Partners and becoming friends again. Maybe more. Friday night was…” The word caught in my throat.
I forced it out anyway. “Intense. Like every wall I’d built between us crumbled in one breath.
And I hate that part of me still wants to believe it wasn’t just heat-of-the-moment. ”
Avery tilted her head, studying me. “So you’re saying it felt real.”
My chest tightened. “Yeah. But feeling something and trusting it is not the same.”
She didn’t push after that. Just nodded, thoughtful, as though she understood I’d already said more than I meant to.
Wanting Luke was one thing. Trusting what surrounded us was another. Which was why I asked, “Do you think things are serious between Theo and Tori?”
Avery tilted her head. “He doesn’t talk about it much. They hook up, sure, but I wouldn’t say it’s anything deep. Why?”
I hesitated. “Tori was weird the other day. Defensive, but also twitchy whenever Elise was around. Almost scared to cross her, but not fully loyal either.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Do you think she knows something?”
Avery frowned. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just trapped. Elise doesn’t let people go without destroying them. And Tori’s not strong enough to walk away. Not yet.”
I leaned back against the tree trunk, bark biting into my shoulder blades. “Elise doesn’t scare me. The only reason she still has leverage is because of my mom. That’s it.”
Avery glanced sideways. “Then don’t give her more than that. You’ve already walked away once. You could do it again.”
I wanted to believe that. I really did. But this time wasn’t just about running—it was about staying and surviving. And suddenly, staying didn’t feel as risky anymore, because maybe we were finally strong enough to fight back.
The bell cut through, loud and unwelcome. Avery groaned, pushing herself up and brushing grass off her jeans. “Come on. Back to hell.”
I followed her inside, her words trailing after me. Chase didn’t get a say. Simple as that. I wished everything in my life could be that clear. But the danger wasn’t gone. It never was. Which made wanting him feel reckless—and saying yes too easy.
By the time last period dragged itself to an end, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t expect his name on the screen.
Luke: You’ve been quiet today. You doing okay?
My pulse tripped. I thumbed back a reply.
Me: Yeah. Just thinking.
Seconds later—
Luke: Dangerous hobby. Want company later?
My fingers hovered. The truth was already there, pressing against my chest.
Me: Not tonight.
I stared at the message, watched the screen dim. My hand drifted up, brushing the star charm at my collarbone, cool against my skin.
Then I added—
Me: But maybe tomorrow.
The screen glowed against the harsh afternoon light streaming through the classroom window, his name still bright in the glass reflection.
I didn’t know where we were heading—only that I wasn’t ready for it to end. Not yet. Even if I couldn’t trust the outcome, part of me still trusted him. And maybe that was the riskiest thing of all.