The words land heavily, twisting something inside me.
Ezra’s jaw tightens. “I think—” He pauses, his gaze flickering to mine, like he’s weighing whether or not to keep going. “Stu went off the deep end. Further than I ever expected he would, and I shouldn’t have trusted him with something so important.” His voice drops lower, barely more than a breath. “I will never make a mistake like that again.”
I can almost feel the weight of what he carries in his words.
“And I will never forgive myself for it,” he adds.
Instead, I exhale slowly, my fingers tightening around my glass as I try to make sense of it all.
Ezra’s confession lingers in the air, heavy and unshakable. I could push him for more—I probably should—but something about the way he looks right now stops me. There’s a heaviness in his eyes, something deeper than guilt or regret. He looks... tired. Like he’s spent too long fighting battles no one else can see, and the exhaustion of it is finally starting to show.
I shift in my seat, swallowing against the lump forming in my throat. “What now?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intend.
His fingers drum lightly against the table, his jaw tightening. “Now?” He exhales, shaking his head. “Now, we survive.”
Something in his tone makes my skin prickle.
It’s not fear—not exactly. It’s the quiet kind of dread that comes with knowing the worst isn’t over yet. Whatever we’re running from hasn’t stopped chasing us.
I should be terrified. Maybe I am. But when he looks at me, something steadies inside me.
I don’t know if I’ve been wrong about him. I’m starting to think I might want to be.
I let the air shift between us. Let it settle.
And then, I will my expression to remain neutral. “Truth or dare?”
His eyes narrow slightly at my change in tone, his expression wary. “I thought it was my turn.”
I shrug, feigning innocence. “Since when have I followed the rules?”
I watch his throat bob as I close the space between us, his gaze flicking to my mouth before locking onto my eyes.
I should keep pushing, demand more answers while he’s in this raw, unguarded state. But I don’t.
Because I see it—the way his shoulders have tensed, the way his fingers tap an uneven rhythm against the table, like he’s bracing for the next inevitable blow. He’s given me as much as he’s willing to tonight, and if I push too hard, I might lose what little ground I’ve gained with him.
And maybe that’s not the only reason.
Maybe I don’t want to sit in this suffocating tension any longer, drowning in truths that make my head spin. Maybe I need to take back a little control, tilt the scales in my favor before I start feeling too much—before I let myself believe too much.
So I shift the game.
The energy.
Us.
Ezra leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Dare.”
The way he says it tells me he’s done talking and way too excited about what comes next.
Like heknows.
I am, too.
I swallow hard, my heart pounding. “Kiss me,” I whisper, the words escaping before I can stop them.
His eyes darken, and for a moment, I think he’s going to refuse.
