Playing To Win || paused might be continued soon ||

chapter twenty-six

I couldn't shake the conversation with Landon from my mind. Every time I replayed it, my blood boiled a little hotter. The nerve of him, acting like I couldn't make my own choices—like he had some kind of authority over who I talked to. He wasn't my dad, and he sure as hell wasn't my friend.

But deep down, I knew the irritation came from somewhere else. The way he'd looked at me—dark, tense, like I was slipping out of his control—unnerved me. And it didn't help that the moment I got back to my apartment, Lorenzo texted me again, inviting me out for lunch.

I went, mostly to prove a point to myself. That Landon didn't control me, that I wasn't going to let his strange behavior dictate my life.

Lunch with Lorenzo was easy, as usual. We sat at a small café near campus, talking about random things—classes, skating, movies. He was good company, and it was nice to laugh without any drama hanging over my head.

"Landon's been in a mood lately," Lorenzo mentioned, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Any idea why?"

I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of my drink. "No clue. He's always in a mood."

Lorenzo chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "True. But it's worse lately. I feel like I should be staying out of his way."

I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest at the mention of Landon, forcing myself to focus on Lorenzo. "Maybe he's just stressed. Hockey and all."

"Yeah, maybe," Lorenzo said, leaning forward with a grin. "Or maybe he's mad that I'm spending all my time with you."

The comment caught me off guard, and I froze, unsure how to respond. Lorenzo's eyes were locked on mine, that playful gleam still in them, but there was something more behind it now—something I hadn't seen before.

I forced a smile, trying to keep things light. "Landon doesn't care who I hang out with."

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

I didn't answer, because I wasn't sure about anything anymore. The more time I spent around Lorenzo, the more I felt this strange tension building. Not just between me and him, but between me and Landon. Like everything was connected somehow, but I couldn't make sense of it.

The conversation shifted after that, and we finished lunch without any more awkward moments. But as we said goodbye and went our separate ways, I couldn't help but feel like something had shifted between me and Lorenzo too.

Later that evening, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, replaying my afternoon with Lorenzo. His casual flirting had me second-guessing everything. I couldn't lie, it was fun being around him. He was charming, easy to talk to, and there was nothing complicated about it—unlike everything with Landon.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that Lorenzo wasn't just looking for friendship, despite my intentions. It was getting messy.

A knock on my door startled me, and I frowned, wondering who it could be this late. Ava and Sienna had already come by earlier to check in on me, so it couldn't be them.

When I opened the door, my heart dropped.

Landon stood there, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking as tense as ever.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice rough, like he had been holding something in for way too long.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What are you doing here?"

He stared at me, eyes darker than usual. "I'm not going to keep dancing around this, Emery. I need to talk to you."

Part of me wanted to slam the door in his face. The other part—the one that always left me intrigued and frustrated—told me to hear him out. I reluctantly stepped aside, letting him in.

He walked past me, his presence filling the small space in a way that made my apartment feel suffocating. He didn't sit down or make himself comfortable. He just stood there, facing me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

"Whatever this is," I started, crossing my arms, "it's getting really old, Landon."

He didn't respond immediately, his eyes locked onto mine as if he was trying to read every thought running through my mind. Finally, he spoke.

"Why are you spending so much time with Lorenzo?"

I blinked, thrown off by the directness. "What? Are you serious right now?"

He clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I don't trust him around you."

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable. Lorenzo is your brother. And you're trying to tell me who I can and can't hang out with?"

"It's not like that—"

"Then what is it, Landon?" I cut him off, anger bubbling to the surface. "Because from where I'm standing, it sure seems like you're trying to control me."

"I'm not trying to control you," he snapped, stepping closer. His voice was lower now, almost desperate. "I just—dammit, Emery. I don't want you getting hurt."

I narrowed my eyes, taking a step back. "Getting hurt? By Lorenzo?"

Landon's gaze flickered with something—guilt, maybe. Or jealousy. But it was gone before I could make sense of it. He took a deep breath, as if trying to reign in his frustration.

"Lorenzo isn't what you think he is," he said, his voice quieter now. "He's... he's not just hanging around you because he's being friendly."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling my temper rise again. "So what? You think he's trying to use me?"

Landon ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "No, but he's not exactly subtle, Emery. And you—" He hesitated, his gaze softening for just a second. "You're letting him get too close."

I stared at him, completely stunned by his words. "And what does it matter to you, Landon? Why do you care?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. His jaw tightened, his eyes shifting away as if he was struggling to say what he really felt. But then he stepped even closer, so close I could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Because it just does," he muttered, his voice low and rough. "I don't like seeing you with him."

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "You're not making any sense. You don't even like me, Landon. Why would you care who I spend time with?"

His eyes snapped back to mine, and the intensity there made my heart pound. "Who said I don't like you?"

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I couldn't think, couldn't move. I just stared at him, my mind racing.

Before I could respond, Landon let out a frustrated sigh and turned on his heel, heading for the door.

"I'm not doing this," he muttered. "Just... stay away from Lorenzo, okay?"

Then, without another word, he was gone, leaving me standing in the middle of my apartment, completely and utterly confused.

What the hell just happened?

And why, despite everything, did I feel like Landon was right?