▌𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚
❛ do you know how 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 frustrating it is? ❜ he cut her off. ❛ to have to 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 you? to pretend like i don't feel 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 when i look at you?❜
starr's breath caught in her throat.
❛ because i do...
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chapter FORTY TWO
hardcore proof .
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starr sat curled up on the couch in her hotel suite, her legs tucked beneath her as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. the city lights of chicago flickered outside the window, casting a dull glow across the room. dylan sat on the other end of the couch, scrolling through his own phone, the sound of the television humming softly in the background. she found herself glancing over at him more than usual, eyeing his every move. she had been ignoring the feeling for days—that quiet little itch at the back of her mind that told her something wasn't right. she'd gotten good at shoving it down, convincing herself that she was overthinking, but then it started creeping up in ways she couldn't ignore.
like the way dylan always knew exactly what to say to keep her mad at mason. even when she started questioning the video, when the initial anger had worn off and doubt had settled in, dylan had been there, immediately reminding her why she was right to be furious. his words were always too perfect, too precise, as if he knew exactly which buttons to press.
or the way he always seemed to be texting someone when he thought she wasn't looking. the hushed phone calls he stepped outside to take. the way his entire face changed when she brought up ahliya's interview, like he was expecting it. at first, she thought she was imagining it, that she was just on edge because of everything that had happened, but the feeling wouldn't go away.
it wasn't until tonight that her suspicions became something more.
"it's work," dylan had said, standing from the couch, his phone already in his hand. "i'll be back in a sec."
starr barely looked up from the tv, nodding as he stepped out onto the hotel balcony. why did he feel the need to tell her who was calling him? she couldn't care less. it was weird. it was always work. the moment the door slid shut behind him, she felt it again—that nagging feeling, the quiet itch in the back of her mind telling her something was off. she didn't even know what she was looking for, but her body moved before her brain could catch up, her feet silently carrying her towards the door.
