Page 7 of The Hearts We Fumble
“No.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he yanks the door open, climbs inside, and reaches across to unlock my side.
I slide onto the leather seat and adjust the bag in my lap, praying he drops it.
He doesn’t.
“So I’m just supposed to pretend I didn’t watch you do the walk of shame out of the Alpha Nu house?”
I flinch, my fingers going rigid around my bag strap.
The engine roars to life, a low rumble vibrating through my bones. My stomach knots, but I keep my gaze focused on the people passing by outside the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my reaction.
It’s not what it looks like—but I already know he’s made up his mind.
And I’m not about to waste my breath correcting him.
I didn’t think I could be so lucky. But I hoped—when he hadn’t said anything right away—that maybe, just maybe, he would let it go.
“Quit ignoring me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
He chuckles, low and knowing. It settles something in me, though I refuse to acknowledge it.
I hadn’t planned on telling Zane what I was doing last night—or why I walked out of a house that belonged to nearly a third of the Keaton football team.
I should’ve thought about my choices before coming with Claudia, especially considering she’s been hooking up with one of the players, Robbie.
Of course, she had no intention of leaving, which left me crashing there too.
But none of that matters now.
Zane’s already made up his mind, convinced he knows exactly what went down.
And really, what’s the point of defending myself?
I do what I always do—dig a deeper hole.
“Why do you care so much? So what if I hooked up with an Eagle player last night?” I tip my head toward him, my voice sharp, mocking. “You gonna put me down for it? Like you aren’t out doing the same thing back in Braysen?”
The words taste like bile, but I let them sit there, heavy and acrid.
The thought of him with someone else flashes across my mind, and my stomach knots.
I force myself to lean back against the seat, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
Zane doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t deny it either.
And that? That’s all I need to know.
“All right, good talk.” I exhale sharply. “Can you hit the fucking gas now, or do you need me to show you how to drive this thing?”
His grip tightens around the gear shift, his knuckles white as he throws it into reverse, then drive, before stepping on the gas.
We don’t speak the whole way back to Braysen. My gaze lingers on the blur of miles slipping past—like if I focus hard enough, I can will myself away. Anywhere but here.
At one point, Zane leans over and turns up the radio, drowning out whatever thoughts are racing through his head—and mine.
