"If she's no one, why are you getting so defensive over her?"

"I'm not in the mood for interrogations tonight, Farrah."

"It's a fucking question, Nate."

"And I'm done answering questions," I growl, shoving her hands away. A surge of claustrophobia washes over me. Nora shouldn't be here. Jake should never have brought her. I can't be near her, yet I can't leave now that she's here.

"Are you fucking her?" Farrah's voice slices through the tension.

"What?" I snap, incredulous.

"You heard me. Are you⁠⁠—"

"No. She's not—it's not like—" I cut myself off, realizing this isn't a conversation I want to have with anyone, especially not Farrah.

"Well, she looks like a sl⁠⁠—"

I'm in her face before she can finish, my finger pointed sharply. "Choose your words wisely, Farrah. Very fucking wisely."

She leans in, her face inches from mine, her breath hitching as if she might kiss me.

Instead, she whispers, "Looks like your little damsel just made a new friend."

I follow her gaze, and my stomach drops. Nora's no longer with Jake; she's laughing with Connor fucking James. Of all the people at this fucking party, it had to be him. I loathe him on a good day, but seeing him with Nora—watching her smile at him—that's enough to make me want to tear every limb from his body. Or maybe it's just the sting of seeing him hold her attention—attention I desperately want, that's driving me insane.

"I need a drink." I don't glance back at Farrah as I head straight for Ollie, who's sprawled on a sofa looking far too comfortable with a girl clinging to his side.

"Natey boy!" Ollie slurs his greeting, words swimming in alcohol. He's plastered, but I'm not one to judge.

"Your sister's here," I snap, cutting through his drunken haze.

"I know. Jake said he was going back to get her." Concern flickers across Ollie's face as he sits up. "Where is she? Is she all right?"

Yeah, well, he's done a pretty shitty job of that.

"Have you seen him?"

"Nah man, sorry. Oh, this is Vanessa, by the way." He gestures to the brunette beside him.

“Ol, Nora shouldn't be here." My reply is terse, focus already shifting.

"It's good that she's finally out. Let her have tonight, okay?"

No. Not okay.

"If you see Jake, tell him I'm looking for him."

"I think he's over there with Kelsie Timmins," Vanessa chimes in, pointing toward my brother who's propped against the kitchen island, chatting up a blonde who seems utterly enamored.

I storm toward the kitchen, and Jake catches my glare, quickly dismissing his company. He straightens, preparing for the confrontation he knows is coming.

"What did I do now?" he asks, tone-deaf.

"You brought her here?"

"If by 'her' you're referring to Nora, then yes."

"Why?" My voice is a mix of disbelief and anger.