Chapter Two
Jonah
I saw Lindor the moment she walked in.
How could I not? She was wearing that red dress, the one that hugged every curve and made every man in the room look twice. Her dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and those lips—fuck, those lips painted the same shade as her dress—were enough to make me forget my own name.
But I couldn't go to her. Couldn't pull her into my arms and kiss her the way I wanted to. Not here. Not in front of Freddy and everyone else.
So I stayed where I was, next to Chelsea, and pretended I didn't notice the way Lindor's face fell when she saw us together.
Chelsea had been my solution to a problem. When Freddy had asked if I was bringing anyone to the party, I'd panicked. I couldn't show up alone—that would be weird, and people would ask questions. And I definitely couldn't show up with Lindor.
Freddy would lose his shit if he knew I'd been fucking his little sister for six months.
So I'd asked Chelsea, a girl from my marketing class who'd been flirting with me all semester. She'd said yes immediately, and I'd been clear about the boundaries. She knew about me and Lindor. This was just for show. Just for tonight. Except Chelsea didn't seem to understand boundaries.
"You look tense," she purred, her hand sliding up my arm. "Relax. It's a party."
"I'm fine," I said, gently removing her hand.
She pouted, pressing closer. "Come on, Jonah. We're supposed to be having fun, remember?"
I forced a smile. "Right. Fun."
Across the room, I saw Lindor at the bar, downing a drink like it was water. Axel was next to her, leaning in close, saying something that made her face flush.
Jealousy spiked through me, hot and sharp.
Axel had been sniffing around Lindor for months. I'd seen the way he looked at her, like she was something precious he wanted to protect. It made me want to punch him.
Lindor was mine. She just didn't know it yet—not publicly, anyway.
"Jonah?" Chelsea's voice pulled me back. "Did you hear me?"
"Sorry, what?"
"I said, should we dance?"
I hesitated. Dancing with Chelsea meant touching her, and touching her meant Lindor would see. But refusing would be weird, and I needed to maintain the illusion.
"Sure," I said, taking her hand and leading her toward the dance floor.
The music was loud, some pop song I didn't recognize. Chelsea immediately pressed herself against me, her arms looping around my neck. I put my hands on her waist, keeping a respectable distance, but she closed the gap, her body flush against mine.
"This is nice," she murmured, her lips close to my ear.
It wasn't nice. It was torture. Because over Chelsea's shoulder, I could see Lindor watching us, her expression carefully blank.
I wanted to go to her. Wanted to explain. But I couldn't, not without blowing everything.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, keeping one hand on Chelsea's waist.
Lindor: You look beautiful tonight. Wish I could tell you in person.
I typed quickly, then hit send before I could second-guess myself.
When I looked up, Lindor was staring at her phone, her face unreadable. Then she looked at me, and the hurt in her eyes was like a knife to the gut.
Fuck.
"Jonah, you're distracted," Chelsea complained. "Pay attention to me."
"Don’t be clingy. You know the deal," I looked at her, pocketing my phone.
Chelsea smiled, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. "That's better. You know, when you asked me to come tonight, I thought maybe this could be the start of something."
I stiffened. "Chelsea, I told you—"
"I know what you told me. But come on, Jonah. We have chemistry. You can't deny that."
I could absolutely deny that, but before I could say so, Freddy appeared beside us, grinning like an idiot.
"Jonah! Dude! You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend!"
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"Chelsea!" Freddy said, gesturing at her. "How long have you guys been together?"
Chelsea's eyes lit up, and I knew—I fucking knew—what she was about to say.
"Six months," she said sweetly, squeezing my hand. "Right, babe?"
The room tilted.
Six months. The exact amount of time I'd been with Lindor.
"Uh," I started, but Freddy was already clapping me on the back.
"Six months! And you didn't say anything! Man, I thought we told each other everything."
"It's been pretty low-key," I managed, my mind racing. I needed to fix this. Needed to find Lindor and explain before—
"Well, not anymore!" Freddy announced, grabbing my hand and Chelsea's and raising them in the air. "Everyone! My best friend Jonah has a girlfriend! Six months and the bastard didn't tell me!"
The crowd cheered, and I felt like I was going to be sick.
Across the room, Lindor stood frozen, her face pale.
Our eyes met, and I saw the exact moment her heart broke.
"Freddy, man, this isn't—" I started, but he was already dragging us toward the center of the room, where people were gathering to congratulate us.
Chelsea was eating it up, her hand tight in mine, her other arm looping around my waist. She pressed a kiss to my cheek, and the crowd whooped.
"Kiss her properly!" someone shouted.
"Yeah, come on, Jonah! Show us what six months looks like with you!"
Chelsea turned to me, her eyes challenging. "Well?" she whispered. "You going to make this convincing or not?"
I should have said no. Should have pulled away, found Lindor, and ended this charade.
But everyone was watching. Freddy was watching. And if I refused, questions would be asked. Questions I couldn't answer without revealing the truth about Lindor.
So I kissed her.
It was brief, chaste, nothing like the way I kissed Lindor. But the crowd went wild, and when I pulled back, Chelsea was smiling like she'd won the lottery.
I searched the room for Lindor, panic clawing at my chest.
She was gone.