Ch39

NOVA

I can't breathe for two seconds. There's so much heat in my face, it shifts from scorching and burns straight through my fucking ribcage. That's how hot it is.

"You are a sick, arrogant asshole," I murmur.

Enzo’s smirk stays locked in place, self-satisfied and smug, like he’s just scored the winning goal in game seven. He reaches for his seatbelt, unbothered, as if he didn't just weaponize my deepest insecurities and manipulate my trust just to get a cheap laugh.

"Oh, come on, Nova, lighten up," he says, shaking his head. "It was a joke. You were getting way too intense about the journalism stuff. I had to break the..."

I raise my hand and I hit him on his shoulder. It’s not enough to hurt him... he’s built like a brick wall... but the way he recoils sends a shockwave back up my own arm. He flinches, his smirk wavering for a second as he looks at me.

"A joke?" My voice cracks, rising as I yank on the door handle. It unlocks. " My life getting ruined is not funny. And watching me drown in guilt for two weeks is not some kind of setup for a punchline."

"Nova, wait..."

"Don't touch me!" I say as he reaches across the console. I shove his hand away, scrambling out of the passenger seat.

The slam of the car door sounds off the quiet driveway. I don't look back. I turn on my heel and start marching down the pavement, my barefoot hitting the asphalt. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely wrap my arms around myself to fight off the chill.

I hear the door burst open behind me, followed by the hurried thud of his Enzo's shoes.

"Nova! Stop for a second, Jesus!" Enzo’s voice cuts through the dark. "Where are you going? My house is right here. I’m supposed to drop you off inside... Noah will kill me if I let you leave!"

"Then let him!" I yell over my shoulder, refusing to slow down. "Tell him you left me on the side of the road because you couldn't stop being a sociopath for five minutes!"

"I'm not leaving you on the street!" He catches up effortlessly with his long stride, stepping around to block my path on the sidewalk.

I stop, glaring up at him. "Move, Enzo."

"No," he says. "Look, I shouldn't have done that."

I stare at him. "You shouldn't have done that?"

"Well... I don't know why exactly you're mad... It was just a harmless joke. You know that you and I could never..." he pauses, his eyes searching my face. "Okay. I went too far, okay? I get it. But it was just a thing at the moment. I didn't mean any of it. Besides, it was funny."

"You keep saying that." I poke a finger against his chest, and force him to look me in the eye. "You don't know how much that meant to me. I genuinely hurt you and I'm paying for it. I'm getting the repercussions of my actions. It hurts. I gave up journalism and I love it. And I've been trying to make up for my actions by doing whatever you want and you sit there and make fun of the situation! You did that when you know... you know that that is a sensitive topic for me. And you just keep playing these mind games and I'm so fucking confused!"

Enzo stands rigid, accepting the jab without moving back.

"It's not a mind game... and I'm sorry." he says softly, his throat working as he swallows.

"Then what was it?" I bite out, wiping a stray eyelash from my cheek. "What was that whole pathetic performance?"

Enzo rubs the back of his neck, turning to look back toward his darkened house before looking down at me again.

"It was a joke," he repeats, but the word sounds hollow now.

"So you do hate me." I mutter.

"Nova..."

"It's fine. I get it."

"I meant what I said before I... before the feelings part."

I suck in a breath, pressing my lips together. "And the feelings part?"

Enzo shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. He looks away toward his driveway, jaw working, muscle ticking near his ear, before his eyes drag back to mine. They are intense. They are heavy. They are stripped of the cocky, teasing front he’s worn like armor in the hallways at school.

"You really think I spent every single weekend in middle school and freshman year at your house just to hang out with Noah?" he asks, his voice barely louder than the breeze.

I blink, thrown off. "What are you saying now? What other reason? You guys are best friends. You play on the same line."

"I’m talking about long before we got into the team," he cuts in, taking a step closer. "I'm talking about sitting in your living room, pretending I was only focused on the video game while I was tracking every single time you walked into the kitchen. I’m talking about sitting three rows up in the rink bleachers, watching you scribble in those notebooks."

"No. Don't do that. My brother had to find practice before you and I were just there because Noah had to drop me off."

"One time when Noah was in the locker room half an hour before puck drop," Enzo says, shaking his head. "I was on those bleachers. Watching you get so focused on writing down stats for the student paper that you’d forget to drink your hot chocolate until it went completely cold."

I pull my arms tighter around my chest, suddenly. "What do you even mean?"

"Oh, you know, because it meant something to you, I couldn't keep my eyes off it. Off you."

"Enzo..."

"Do you have any idea how exhausting it's been?" he interrupts, stepping directly into my personal space now, towering over me just enough that I have to tilt my chin up to keep his gaze. "Walking down the school hallway, watching half the guys in our grade try to catch your eye while I have to pretend I don't even care?"

A nervous laugh leaves my lips. "Half the guys? That's an exaggeration."

"Sitting at your kitchen counter while you pass by in your track pants, completely oblivious to the fact that I couldn't even pay attention to what your brother was saying to me?"

The heat surges back into my face, but this time, it's not anger. It's a dizzying surge of electric static that goes straight to my chest.

"You're lying," I mutter. "You're just... you're trying to mess with my head again because you feel bad for making me mad."

"I have never messed with your head about this, Nova," he says. "The joke back in the car? That was a mask, I promise you. That was just the big hockey guy panicking because he looked at your face and realized he'd almost crossed a line he swore he'd never touch."

"The things you're saying... If it's true... why haven't you ever said anything about it."

"Because you're Noah's little sister!" Enzo says softly. "Because he’s my best friend! There are rules, Nova. Stuff you just don't do in high school unless you want your whole group to turn sideways. And every single day, staying on my side of that line felt impossible."

I stare at him, my mind spinning.

"I'm not saying I believe you, because it's valid for me not to. You've never said a word. Not once. And when the recording went all out... When Ava posted it... Mr. Lawson got mad and the whole school started talking... you acted like you hated me."

He reaches out, his fingers hovering inches from my arm, hesitating, before he lets his hand drop back to his side, clenching it into a fist.

"I didn't care about the school drama," he continues.

"Enzo..." My chest caves in.

"Say whatever you will, Nova. Just don't you dare stand there and tell me I hate you," Enzo says. He looks down at me, his gaze dropping to my lips, before rising back to my eyes. "I could try for the rest of high school, Nova. I could try forever. And I still wouldn't know how to look at you and pretend you're just Noah's sister."

"You're lying."

Enzo’s jaw tightens at my words. He reaches up, his fingers brushing against the side of my face, trailing down to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is light, but it sends a shiver straight down my spine.

"I mean every single word," he whispers, his thumb lingering for a second against my cheekbone. "Now tell me to back off, Nova. Tell me to walk away and pretend this never happened... because if you don't, I swear I'm not going to be able to keep pretending anymore."

"What are you going to do? Tell Noah you have feelings for his baby sister? Yeah, like that would ever happen."

Enzo glances down at the asphalt. He looks like he's thinking about something, because when he looks up, he has a hopeful expression on his face.

"What if... what if we go behind his back?"