In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

FIFTEEN

"For the love of God, turn that off!" Jack groans, making me wake up. Ugh, it's 7 a.m. already.

I slam my alarm off, feeling like a zombie. Jack's on the couch, looking like death warmed over, sighing dramatically. I grab my phone and—oh shit—missed calls from Braden.

"Jack, I gotta go," I mumble, scrambling to throw on whatever I wore last night. Jack's sitting there, face in his hands like he's having some kind of existential crisis. "We messed up... drank way too much," he mutters, sounding guilty as hell. But honestly? I'm too stressed to care about the whole 'drunk mistake' thing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! What am I even gonna say to Braden?!" I whisper-shout, trying to untangle my hair with my fingers.

Jack cracks his back and shrugs like this whole thing's no big deal. "Why stress? Just don't tell him. Dude's not your boyfriend anyway, remember?" He's so damn chill about it, like it's no big deal.

Okay, fine, Braden wasn't technically my boyfriend, but he had called me his girl the other night. And now here I am, crawling out of Jack's bed like... what the actual hell?

Yeah, lines are hella blurred. And, TBH, I can't even lie—the whole mess last night with Jack? It felt right, which is so wrong. Like, how does that make sense? My head's spinning, but I can't deny there was something there.

"Do you regret—" I start, but Jack cuts me off, dead serious. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, babe." He gives me this look. "Let's not talk about it again, okay? We're still chill, just like before. Like nothing happened."

He walks off like it's no biggie, and I just stand there, feeling all kinds of awkward. He heads to the bathroom and turns on the shower, totally unfazed. I'm just standing there, trying to act cool, but inside I'm screaming. How is he so calm?

Not mad at him, though. More at myself. Last night was a mess, and now I've slept with my ex, and I'm lowkey dying inside. I grab my purse, give Jack a quick, awkward "later," and bolt outta there.

I run to my own door, knocking like I'm trying to break it down. Braden's on the other side, and I'm freaking out. The door swings open, and his face lights up. Relief. He's actually relieved to see me, and I'm just here like... yeah, about last night.

He pulls me inside and wraps me in a hug, but it's... weird. Not like Jack's. Braden's hold feels kinda off, like I don't even fit in his arms the same way anymore. He grabs my face, eyes all worried, looking for answers.

"Where the hell were you? I woke up at like 4 a.m., and you weren't back. I legit freaked out," he says, all panic and relief mixed together.

I feel my stomach flip. I could just tell him I was with Jack—his new teammate—but yeah, no. That's a disaster waiting to happen. The guilt's already weighing me down, and I'm not even sure how to lie my way out of this.

"I, uh... came back at 2 a.m.," I blurt out, my brain scrambling. "Forgot my key, though." I point to it sitting on the drawer, still exactly where I left it. "Went downstairs to get a new one, but they wouldn't give me one 'cause of some safety thing. So... yeah, had to get another room for the night." Wow, that's... a lot of BS.

Before I can keep digging this hole, he raises his hand, cutting me off, like please stop talking. "It's fine. I believe you," he says, his voice soft. "I just got scared, that's all." He leans down to kiss my forehead, and I should feel better, but nope—if anything, it makes me feel worse.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower," I say, grabbing my stuff, needing an escape from all the ugh of this morning. He offers to grab breakfast after, and I'm like, sure, why not. But inside, I'm already dreading the whole thing.