Chapter 23
LANEY
" C ome on, Laney." Asha splashes me from the pool. "Get in. The water feels amazing…so good that you might even forget we have two baboons babysitting us."
"Hey." Fish throws his hands up. "What did I ever do to you?"
She rolls her eyes. "Sorry, Fish." Her eyes slide over to Trigg. "You, I'm not sorry."
I know why Fisher came back with us. He's Sydney's brother, and after what I heard London confess in the parking lot tonight, I wouldn't put it past him to have asked his best friend to see us home safely, but Trigg is a different story.
He didn't like it when I told him Asha didn't think about him, and I think he's trying to see to it that changes.
After tonight, many things that seemed hazy before are becoming clearer.
Our loosely fake relationship isn't just about London.
It's about her too. If he's with me, he has an excuse to see her.
"Seriously, Laney, get in here and make a memory. Let's end the night on a good note instead of the shit one the guys dealt us," she huffs out before putting her elbows on the edge of the pool.
"If I remember correctly, it was your scandalous dancing that caused a scene worthy of a rescue," Trigg tosses back .
"Are you serious? We were dancing together. Are you suggesting our outfits and our moves were an open invitation?"
"Not at all. I know it kills you to believe I'm not a misogynistic pig, but it wasn't your outfits. It was, however, your come-hither stare-down coupled with that French-tipped forefinger beckoning the next sorry fuck after you'd had your fun."
That makes my lips quirk to one side as I stare up at the stars littering the night sky.
They have to know this banter disguised as hate isn't fooling anyone.
I wonder if Asha's delayed clapback is because she caught the same detail I did.
He's paying attention. A guy who wasn't looking wouldn't have noticed her manicure.
Her response fades into background noise as her mind drifts back to someone else who noticed me tonight.
When Trigg and Fish showed up without London, I hadn't expected to see him.
I assumed he'd heard I was going and decided he didn't want to go since he's been so adamant about my leaving, so I hadn't prepared for the way my heart would seize when our eyes met across the crowded bar, and I sure as hell didn't see that kiss coming.
My fingers instinctively trace over my lips as the memory of our kiss blazes vividly behind my closed eyes.
What did it mean? Does he still feel the same electric current I do whenever he's around, that magnetic pull whispering you're still mine even though time and circumstance scream otherwise?
Was it a mere habit, muscle memory from our past, or something more?
It was just one kiss. One single kiss. But that brief collision of our lips has me questioning if it holds the power to demolish everything I've built since we fell apart. The past can't be undone, but can it be rewritten, or am I fooling myself again?
My mind tortures me, recalling every second of his body pressed against mine, pinning me between his familiar warmth and the rough brick column that sheltered us from prying eyes.
The way his hands cupped my face with a tenderness I'd forgotten then drifted down my body like he was memorizing me all over again.
His soft lips meeting mine felt like a homecoming I'd been waiting for.
I wanted to capture that moment, preserve it, and let it crystallize into the future I once dreamed about, but it was that thought that slapped me with a cruel dose of reality.
We're not those people anymore. I can't let myself free-fall for London again without answers, without certainty.
That realization jolts me upright, and I pat my pockets, remembering how he AirDropped his number to my phone after he put me in the car, his body lingering above mine for a beat too long after he buckled me in.
The thought of calling him has my palms sweating before they ever connect with my phone.
I need to know if that kiss meant to him even half of what it did to me.
I need to know if it's haunting his thoughts the way it's possessing mine and, more importantly, if he's aching to do it again.
The screen glows as I swipe open my phone, and simultaneously, a shadowy figure appears at the far end of the house.
My heart rate instantly accelerates, believing it might be him stopping by to see that we made it home safely.
But as he draws closer, the landscape lighting illuminates his silhouette, and I recognize Noah's familiar stride.
My chest deflates with disappointment as a bitter resentment takes its place.
Fish and Trigg both rise from their lounge chairs when they spot him, my vigilant guardians after tonight's earlier confrontation, but I wave them off.
"I'm fine. Let me handle this," I say as I stand to meet Noah on the other side of the pool.
"Noah, I have nothing to say to you." I cross my arms, not just in defiance but as a shield. "You were completely out of line tonight."
"How so?" His voice carries that academic detachment I once found so appealing. Now, it just feels cold. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true."
"You made egregious insinuations," I state boldly.
"I told you none of this was because of London.
I'm not with him, but for some reason, you're obsessed with making this about him.
Tonight, you were with us from start to finish.
You saw for yourself I had no idea London would be at that last stop.
" I drag my hands through my hair, my nerves frayed.
"It's like you're determined to believe I'm lying to you.
I feel like you're fighting with a ghost."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Offense flares in his eyes, his posture stiffening.
"It means we're not in high school anymore." I gesture vaguely between us. "This isn't some competition with a trophy at the end, and tonight, you made it abundantly clear that's exactly how you see things."
"Is that what you think I was doing?" A complex mixture of bewilderment and hurt crosses his expression, softening his features in a way that makes my resolve waver, but only for a second.
"I don't know. You tell me." I take a step closer.
"You keep tossing around accusations that my timing isn't a coincidence, while the same can be said about you.
You had years to ask for more, years to ask me to move home with you, but it was only after you saw London that you suddenly took your shot. "
"I was always going to ask you," he says with an honesty that resonates despite everything.
I don't think he's lying, and he isn't entirely wrong in his argument.
My timing does appear arguably suspect, and yes, some of that can be attributed to discovering London was here in Bardstown, but not in the way Noah is accusing me.
Seeing London forced me to stop running from the truth I've been avoiding for months: I was holding onto Noah for all the wrong reasons.
He was never going to make me feel half of what a person should feel when love is real.
Drawing things out was bad for both of us.
Noah may have planned on asking me to move home all along, but somewhere along the line, his plans changed, just like mine.
"I believe you," I say, letting my defenses down just enough to show my sincerity. "I'm just asking that you believe me too. I was always going to say no."
Something hardens in his gaze. "I don't believe you."
"You don't have to, but you do have to accept my answer, because it's not going to change." My voice remains firm even though my heart aches. I don't want to hurt him, but he refuses to listen, and I have to close this door once and for all.
He steps into me then, his height suddenly looming in a way it never has before. A darkness I've never witnessed crosses his face as the sound of pool furniture screeching across the stone patio cuts through the air.
"Back up, Donovan," Fisher's voice carries a sharp warning from the other side of the pool.
Noah's eyes stay locked on mine. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Laney.
You've never been a game to me." He opens his mouth, as if he has more to say, then closes it, clenching his jaw so tight I can see the muscle twitch.
He angrily runs a hand through his hair.
"You want me gone? Fine. I'll fucking leave.
But when you find out how wrong you are, I won't be there to pick up the pieces. "
He lets the gravity of his words settle between us for another beat before turning on his heel and storming off, each footstep a punctuation mark on the end of our friendship.
I watch him disappear into the darkness, hating how everything ended between us.
I never wanted things to end up this way, but it's the absolute conviction behind his belief that I am wrong that sends tendrils of fear and insecurity spreading through my chest. My feet move of their own accord, hurriedly rushing toward the back door.
"Laney, where are you going?" Sydney calls after me, her voice full of concern.
"I'll be back. I just need to grab something from my room," I answer without looking back, my voice steadier than I feel.
I just need a minute to breathe. And maybe my fingers are already reaching for my phone, making a call that will either save me or destroy me completely.
"Hello," London answers on the third ring.