My brothers best friend

Chapter 43: The Moment He Said ''Mine''

Chapter 43

Valerie's Point of View

The bass thumped in my chest, the rhythm of the music almost drowning out the constant chatter and laughter filling the packed house. The party was alive with energy—bodies moving to the beat, drinks clinking, and voices rising over the din. Viktoria and Paige had dragged me here, insisting I needed a night out, and I couldn't argue. I needed something to take my mind off the mess that had become my life.

But as I stood by the bar with Viktoria, Paige, and their boyfriends, I couldn't ignore the undercurrent of tension that followed me like a shadow.

He was here.
Jake.

I hadn't even looked directly at him yet, but I didn't have to. I felt his presence like a static charge in the room, sparking and pulling at my chest. Wherever Mason and Connor went, Jake was sure to follow, and tonight was no different. The three of them were standing a few feet away, laughing at something Amelia said, their drinks in hand.

I kept my face carefully neutral, but my stomach churned. Jake hadn't even acknowledged me—not a glance, not a nod, nothing. He was ignoring me completely, and it hurt more than I wanted to admit. My heart ached with every second of his indifference, even though I tried to tell myself I deserved it.

I knew the pictures weren't what they seemed. I knew I hadn't kissed Nick—he kissed me—but I hadn't gotten the chance to explain. The truth hung between us, unspoken and heavy.

The group we were in—Viktoria, Paige, Mason, Connor, and the rest—were having a great time. Amelia had brought her usual charm, keeping everyone laughing, and Jacob was telling some ridiculous story that had Connor nearly choking on his drink. I forced myself to smile, to laugh along, even though my heart wasn't in it.

Jake, though—he was good at pretending. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world, his easy smile lighting up the room as he joked with Mason and Connor. But every time I caught his profile out of the corner of my eye, my chest tightened.

I hated this. I hated the distance, the silence, the way he wouldn't even look at me.

Still, I tried to push it all aside. I focused on the people around me, on the conversation, on the music. If I let myself sink into the hurt, I'd drown in it. And I couldn't let that happen—not tonight.

The night wore on, the party getting wilder by the minute. People danced and shouted, the drinks kept flowing, and the house was packed with faces we all knew. It should have felt like old times, like the kind of carefree night I used to love. But with Jake so close and yet so far, it was impossible to fully enjoy myself.

And then, out of nowhere, someone approached me.

"Hey."

I turned, startled by the familiar voice.

Conrad.

Jake's Point of View

The party was loud, packed, and alive with energy. People danced, laughed, and yelled over the music, but I was in my own bubble with Mason, Connor, and a few others. We were leaning against the kitchen counter, surrounded by the chaos, cracking open beers, and laughing over a stupid story Mason was telling about a night gone wrong at another party.

"Bro, scouts, man!" Connor grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. "You're the freaking golden boy now. How does it feel to have your dreams just handed to you?"

"It's not handed to him," Mason argued, his voice mock-serious. "Jake's just built different. It's the hair. They saw it and said, 'This is our guy.'"

The group erupted into laughter, and I shook my head, grinning as I raised my beer. "Yeah, yeah. It's definitely the hair. I'll make sure they put that in the highlight reel: Jake Graham's Flow—Career Highlights."