Levi's jaw tightened, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and hurt. He knew, instinctively, that Brandon had known that he was standing there. He had seen the subtle shift in Brandon's demeanor, the almost imperceptible smirk that had flickered across his lips just before he embraced Lyse. It was a calculated move, a deliberate act designed to provoke him. And it had worked wonderfully. Levi's blood simmered, a potent cocktail of jealousy and resentment coursing through his veins.
He watched, his frustration mounting, as Lyse turned in Brandon's direction and noticed him for the first time, before she bid Brandon goodbye, a faint smile gracing her lips. He could not hear what they were saying, but he could imagine the words of comfort, the expressions of sympathy. He hated it. He hated the way Brandon looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he pretended to care for her after everything he had done.