27

MILES

“Knock, knock,” I call, gently rapping my fist against the wood of Nessa’s bedroom door as I push it open.

She’s curled up on her bed in the fetal position, her knees tucked tightly into her chest and a pillow clutched in her arms, hiding her face. She picks up her head when she hears me come in, frowning when our eyes meet and burying her face back in the pillow. “Go away, Miles,” she grumbles, her words muffled.

I blow out a breath, taking a tentative step into the room despite her protest. She’s been holed up in here for hours following that ugly scene in the kitchen this morning. Chase kicked Cal out right away, but I stuck around, figuring Nessa would come out eventually and need a shoulder to cry on. I iced my face and explained to Chase what went down between Cal and me, but then Vee woke up and called him back upstairs. So I sat in the living room by myself for what felt like forever, bored as shit, waiting and waiting until I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to come