Chapter 7

Talia’s POV

He leaned against the car like a super model who had just finished shooting a damn sports drink ad, with sweat on his neck, gym bag slung over his shoulder, and that same irritating smirk stamped across his face.

I ignored him and reached for the back door.

“Front seat’s empty,” he added, like I needed the reminder.

“I’m not interested in being anywhere near you,” I muttered, yanking open the back and sliding in with my bags stuffed beside me.

He shrugged and hopped in. “Suit yourself. Hope the air back there isn’t too… cold. You know, with all that rage frosting up the windows.”

I didn’t answer.

He turned the keys, the engine hummed to life, and we pulled away from the mall. I crossed my arms and leaned against the window, letting the city blur past in bright, blurry lights.

Maxton didn’t stop.

“Didn’t know shopping was your coping mechanism. It must be nice shopping on daddy’s plantinum card,” he said casually, drumming his fingers on the steering. “So tell me… how many designer bags does it take to forget you looked at me like you wanted to kiss me last night?”

Silence.

I didn’t even flinch, I just adjusted my seatbelt and stared harder at the glass.

He chuckled to himself like he was proud. “Alright. Silent treatment. That’s classic. You know that makes you ten times hotter, right?”

Still nothing.

He tapped on the dashboard, humming a ridiculous tune under his breath. “Maybe I should take a detour. Drive to the lake, toss you in, cool off that fiery mouth of yours.”

I let out a breath. Not a sigh, but just enough to stop myself from lunging at him and knocking his teeth out with one of my heels.

And then eventually, he stopped.

The silence between us stretched for miles. The kind that screamed louder than all his taunts combined. I knew he was looking at me. Watching me from the corner of his eye or from the rear view mirror, wondering why I wasn’t biting back, but I chose to stay quiet because if I opened my mouth now, I’d shatter.

Not from anger.

But from… everything else I didn’t want to name.

After a long, agonizing drive, we pulled up to the Carter mansion. I reached for the door.

“Talia—” he started, quieter this time.

I cut him off. “Don’t… just don’t. Not even a word.”

I opened the door, slammed it shut, and walked straight to the house like it was on fire and I was escaping the smoke.

Not even one look back.

The house was quiet, oddly too quiet. Not even Lydia with her polite curtsies was in sight. I dropped my bags in the hallway and dragged myself to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water.

I needed to calm down.

Except I couldn’t.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him smirking. Every time I took a breath, I smelled his cologne on my clothes. The sweat from his gym shirt. The scent of a moment I never wanted to remember.

But I did.

I remembered all of it.

His voice whispering behind me in that towel. His laughter on the phone. His stupid bet. And worst of all… the tiny piece of me that had wanted more.

A soft knock came on the kitchen door.

I stiffened.

“Don’t you have practice to get to?” I said without turning.

“Nope,” he replied, leaning against the doorway.

His voice was softer this time. No teasing. No taunting. Just… flat. Wierdly.

“I thought you’d punch me again,” he said.

“I’m saving my punches,” I said, still not facing him. “For people who matter.”

Silence again.

Then, he walked towards me with slow, deliberate steps. A part of me wanted him closer, for him to hug me and to tell me that he didn’t mean those words. I don’t know why I felt that way, but I knew that keeping a distance would be safer.

“Don’t come any closer,” I said sharply, coldly.

He stopped mid-step. “You’re mad. I get it.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “No you don’t!… You don’t get anything, Maxton.”

“I didn’t mean what I said—”

“You said I didn’t deserve the Carter heir,” I snapped. “You said it like I was a prize to be won. A challenge. A freaking trophy. And you were proud of it.”

He swallowed, jaw clenching. “I didn’t mean it like that. It just… it just slipped.”

“You didn’t even know I was standing there, did you?”

My voice cracked, and I hated it.

“You were just talking. Laughing, like none of it mattered. Like I didn’t matter. One minute you’re helping me, looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, and the next… I’m just a joke between you and your little skating clique.”

He looked at me for a long time. Not angry. Just… guilty. Maybe even scared. I swallowed the lump that had built up in my throat.

“I don’t know which version of you is real, Maxton. And I’m tired of guessing,” I said, grabbing my bottle of water and walking towards the door. Just when I was almost past him—

“I was scared,” he said finally. “Of liking you too much. Of falling—”

I shook my head, the ache building behind my eyes. “Then fall somewhere else. Because I won’t be your landing pad.”

I brushed past him, up the stairs, and into my room.

Later that night, I got a message from an unknown number.

“Party. Friday. No rules. No cameras. Come if you want to breathe again.”

—Zeke.

Zeke. The guy from the ice cream shop.

I stared at the message for a long time. My thumb hovered over the screen.

Then another text came through.

Maxton: “I know I messed up. But you weren’t a bet. You were always more.”

I threw the phone across the bed.

Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Maybe it was time I played the game.