CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE

COLE

Curt and I had been sitting in my car for what felt like forever. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white, and I could feel the tension buzzing through my whole body like a live wire. My mind was racing, thoughts colliding with each other like a chaotic storm. Blake. Alex. Dinner. Just the two of them.

I turned to Curt, who sat in the passenger seat, cool as ever, scrolling through his phone like we weren’t on the verge of something major. I didn’t get how he could be so calm, so collected, while my stomach was in knots.

“I’m telling you, man,” I said, my voice hard and tight, “Blake’s always had a thing for her. I could see it. Every time he’s around Alex, the way he looks at her. And now, dinner? Just the two of them? That’s not nothing. That’s not just friends.”

Curt glanced up at me, his eyebrows raised, but his tone was steady, like he was talking me off a ledge. “Cole, you’re overthinking this. You don’t know if it was just the two of them. May