Page 46 of Hidden Echoes

Carter’s looking at me like that. Like he’s going to attack.

I’d love to see him try.

“I don’t understand why Zane puts up with you,” he mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

The snap of my notebook closing is sharp, slicing through the tension in the room. I meet his gaze head-on, voice cold as steel.

“I was wondering the same thing about you.”

He laughs, but it’s not amused—it’s mean, condescending. The kind of laugh that says he thinks he’s already won.

He steps closer, crossing his arms, that smirk still etched onto his face. “You really think you’re special just because he’s protecting you, don’t you? You have no idea how much he carries because of you. And when you inevitably fuck it up, I’ll be here to clean up the mess—like always.”

“I never asked him to carry anything.” My voice is steady, sharper than I expect. But then I tilt my head, studying him. “But now that you mention it, you must love the idea of replacing me.”

Carter’s smirk falters, just for a second. But I see it. And that? That makes me smile.

"Please, my place is already secured. You're the foreign body trying to invade," Carter said with a smirk.

"Really?" I teased. "So, Carter, have you ever touched him? Ever made him feel his breath hitch just by being too close?"

"You know better," he responded. "Zane only touches people he fucks—that's it. He’s not one for physical contact with anyone."

Interesting. Because I could have sworn that the Zane from just a few days ago, kissing me, would have a different opinion on that. But I decided to keep this little secret to myself. I liked knowing that I was the only one who held that part of him.

He snorted, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m only here because he asked me to be. Make no mistake, I don’t care one bit what you do with your life.”

"Oh, sure," I said, standing up from the couch to face him head-on. "Because spending the day annoying me is clearly your ideal Tuesday afternoon plan."

“What a surprise. You know the days of the week. There’s something you know after all.”

My hand gripped the colored pencil tightly.

This guy really didn’t know when to stop. He was like a jealous guard dog. You can’t kill him, Mia. Zane would be sad.

I knew he was bothered by Zane caring about me, but this childish tantrum was going too far.

Before I could muster a sharp retort, the apartment door opened, and to my relief, Zane walked in. He wore that easy, confident smile that always made my stomach turn, but when he saw Carter, his expression shifted to something more… curious. He could sense the tension in the air.

“What did I miss?” Zane asked casually, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Carter pulled away from me, almost like he'd been caught red-handed. “Nothing,” he and I said simultaneously, but the discomfort was evident.

Zane didn’t look convinced, but he let it go with a shrug. He moved toward me, his expression unreadable—casual, like he hadn’t just clocked the tension in the room. Then, as if nothing had happened, he smirked. “Hey, Gorgeous.”

I instantly relaxed. Carter, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable, which gave me a rather perverse satisfaction. But what really made Carter frown—like, unbelievably so—was the way Zane bent down and kissed my forehead. It was so gentle, so simple.

I was surprised, because he started it. Almost as if he sensed how Carter’s presence made me feel insecure, and was trying to reassure me.

Am I crazy? This man wouldn't even admit he’s mine, and now he’s kissing my forehead?

"I hope Carter kept you company," Zane said with a wry smile, as though he knew exactly what had been going on.

I let out a low laugh. "Oh, yes. It was... enlightening."

Carter grumbled something under his breath, but before he could leave, Zane stopped him.

"You stay," Zane said, his voice firm but with that amused tone. "Actually, I was thinking we should go out today. You come too."

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