A selfie. Levi, sprawled across his bed, halfundressed, the sheets bunched around him like he just rolled out of it. Flash catching the ink on his chest. That stupid smirk.

Levi (text): Aye what’s up girl?

Levi (text): Come over… I need you. 😏

Levi (text): I miss you.

He’s half-drunk, probably. Maybe. Or maybe not. Levi texts like this when he’s lying in bed bored, trying to pull you back to him like it’s nothing. Like he knows you’ll come.

A heat spreads through your chest. Warm. Stupid.

You: Nobody.

Nolan knows you too well for that. He snorts, pushes up off the couch, stretching like he’s got nowhere to be, and heads toward the kitchen.

You (text): Busy tonight.

Three dots appear instantly.

Levi (text): Busy doing what?

You hesitate for half a second. You shouldn’t lie. That’s the problem. That’s always been the problem.

You (text): Hanging with Nolan. He’s here.

The dots bubble up. Disappear. Bubble again.

Silence stretches long enough that Nolan notices you staring at the screen again.

Levi (text): Of course you are.

Levi (text): He still on that bullshit pretending he don’t like you?

Your jaw tightens. That—what the fuck?

You (text): He’s not my boyfriend, Levi.

The reply comes instantly. Toxic, his favorite kind of honesty.

Levi (text): Yeah. Whatever.