A possibility when Cassia was nothing but a fantasy. But now I know what the reality with Cassia is like. Know what the breathy moans she makes when she comes sound like.

I was in control, up until Cassia instigated things. I’ve never wanted to resist her, and I’m sick of trying. The problem is, my selfish tendencies have never extended to Cassia.

She’s been the exception, always.

I’ll hurt her, even if I don’t mean to.

Me staying away is in her best interest and so I’ve tried to do exactly that. Not drag her down into my uncertain future. Into my destructive tendencies and volatile decisions.

The problem is, how I actually feel about her has never changed, regardless of how I’ve acted. It was much easier to keep that façade up when I figured all Cassia Nolan wanted was to become a veterinarian and meet a nice, reliable guy one day.

But then she came on my dick like she was desperate for me, and that assumption shattered like fragile glass.

“Holden?”

“I’m fine,” I answer, then take a long pull of water as I watch the entrance.

Cassia walks into the cafeteria, talking to a girl with a blonde bob who I’ve never noticed before. They both walk over to the table of girls that includes my sister. Instead of her usual spot facing me, Cassia sits on the opposite side of the table so her back is toward me.

I sip more water, eyes fixed on the back of the gray sweatshirt she’s wearing. She sits in the same spot, always. This is purposeful, her making a point.

She won’t even look at me.

Fuck it.

I stand, ignoring Grace asking me where I’m going. Cross the linoleum floor of the cafeteria, pretending not to see the curious glances aimed my way. I stride straight toward Cassia, not bothering with any semblance of I just happened to be walking by casual bullshit.

Purposeful strides eat up the distance between us quickly.

I don’t hesitate once I reach her, either. “I need to talk to you,” I announce.

The table of mostly juniors falls silent. Her friendship with Sydney means most of Cassia’s friends are a year younger. I was her strongest connection to our grade, up until I stopped inviting her to hang out.

I ignore the lingering guilt associated with that decision and focus instead on the prime view of Cassia’s shoulders rising and tensing before her head turns around. I keep my gaze on her, leaving no question about who I’m talking to.

“Why? What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Sydney fires the questions at me rapid fire, glancing between me and her best friend with an expression of concern.