[BOOK2]
Friendship built their world. Love will break it open. ❤️
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Isla Brookes and Theo Dwyers have been inseparable since childhood-always there for each other, always just friends. Though, things start to change and everything starts feel...
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I know Becca's right.
God, I hate it, but I know.
Theo had to kiss Peyton. And now he has to go to her room tomorrow. It's the only way to get her to slip, the only way to clear his name.
But knowing doesn't make it hurt less.
I can still see it every time I blink—the way Peyton dragged him close, the smug curve of her lips, the lipstick smeared on his mouth when he pulled away. And now, every step we take toward his apartment, the knot in my chest just gets tighter.
I don't say a word.
Theo tries a few times. "baby..." His hand brushes mine, tentative. I shove it in my pocket.
He sighs. "Silent treatment? Really?"
Nothing. I keep my eyes on the pavement, jaw tight.
By the time get off the lift and step inside his room, I'm practically buzzing with petty energy. I drop my bag on his floor with a thud and kick off my shoes, ignoring him completely as I flop onto his bed like it's mine.
Theo shuts the door behind us, leaning back against it. He studies me, curls falling into his eyes, his lips still raw from Peyton. "You done?"
I roll onto my side, away from him, crossing my arms. "Not even close."
He laughs, short and incredulous. "You're actually pouting."
"I am not pouting," I snap, voice muffled by his pillow.
"You're sulking." He pushes off the door, coming closer. "Full-on, child-level sulking." I stay curled on my side, back to him, arms folded tight. Childish. Petty. I know. But the image of Peyton's smug mouth on his still burns in my brain, and it's like a bruise I can't stop pressing.
Theo's hand squeezes my hip gently. "Luna." His voice dips, that low rumble that usually melts me. "Talk to me."
I twist my face deeper into the pillow. "Don't want to."
He sighs, but there's a smile hidden in it. "You're impossible when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous." My voice is sharp, defensive.
He chuckles softly, leaning closer until his breath brushes the back of my neck. "Liar."
I whip around to glare at him, but it backfires instantly — because he's right there, eyes dark, mouth curved in that infuriating almost-smirk. He knows exactly what he's doing.
"Two kisses," I snap, shoving his chest. "You kissed her twice."
His grin fades, voice roughening. "No. She kissed me twice. I endured it. Don't twist it, Isa."
I huff, turning back to face away, but his arm snakes around my waist, hauling me against him. "You're mine," he murmurs, lips dragging over my shoulder. "Every second with her, I was thinking about you. Wanting you."
