𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟑

KANE

My fists clench tightly, a surge of anger coursing through me. No way she actually did this. It has to be some sick joke— one that's not funny.

I dial her number, slipping into my sweatpants while attempting to wrestle my shirt over my head at the same time— a terrible decision.

With a frustrated groan, I toss my phone onto the bed, ensuring it's on speaker phone while I wait for her to pick up. This time, I take a moment to calm myself and put my clothes on properly, even though the fury simmers beneath the surface.

My heart races as I hear her voice crackle through the speaker, "What's up, Reed?"

Instantly, my stomach flips, and tingles race across my skin. I adore the sound of her voice, it's intoxicating. For a brief moment, I almost forgot why I called. Almost.

"Where are you?" I demand, my tone sharper than I intended.

"What?" She replies, confusion lacing through her voice.

"Answer my bloody question," I grit out, each word deliberate, ensuring she understands my anger.

"I'm at home," she insists.

"Don't lie to me, Isabelle."

I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper.

"What the hell, Kane! I just told you I'm at home." Her voice rises, frustration evident, but before I can respond, I hear the unmistakable beep of a disconnect— she just hung up of me. No way.

I try calling again, but it goes straight to voicemail, escalating my irritation.

Scrolling on my phone, I tap on Instagram , and zoom in on a post that's the reason for my anger and made my blood run cold when I first saw it.

@kingeddie mentioned @isabellechilton in a post.

The picture reveals him and Izzy, snuggled up together in a bed from this morning. Those definitely aren't her sheets. She stayed at his house? I thought she went home with the lads.

My jaw tightens at the thought of Izzy with some bloke— let alone Edward fuckface. I hate knowing about it, let alone having it swirl in my head like a storm.

She's free to do what she wants, and I'd never dream of stopping her, but it doesn't mean I have to like the fact she's out with someone else when she could've been with me. Not a chance.

"Stop being a bloody hypocrite, Kane," I scold myself, the internal battle raging on.

She never questions me when I'm with some girl, so who I to dictate her choices? A prick, that's what I am. Yet, part of me wishes she would. Just once, I want her to care enough to feel a pang of jealousy, to know if it eats her up inside that I'm with someone who isn't her. But she doesn't bat an eyelid.

Now I sound like a complete tosser and an absolute dick.

Izzy never probes into my life; she just reminds me to treat women right, no matter what. It's clear she sees me just as a mate— her best mate, at that.