CROSSED LINES

The screaming turned out to be nothing. Some drunk guy fell into a bush, and the crowd ate up the drama like it was their job. Typical.

But I wasn't thinking about the screaming. Or the party. Or anything, really — except the guy standing way too close to me.

Leo hadn't moved. He still watched me with that same patient curiosity, like he knew I was unraveling and was just waiting for me to admit it.

"You never answered my question," he said. His voice was quiet now, almost gentle — which was so unfair because it made him ten times more dangerous. "Why do you write the blog?"

I swallowed hard. "Why do you keep asking?"

"Because you never tell the truth," he said, stepping closer. "You make people obsessed with everyone else's secrets, but you never tell your own. Why is that?"

My throat tightened. I didn't like this. I didn't like how easily he saw through me.

"You think you know me?" I forced a laugh, but it sounded fake even to my own ears. "You don't."

He tilted his head, eyes never leaving mine. "Then tell me something real, Parker. Just one thing."

The tension between us was so thick, I could barely breathe. The air felt electric, my skin buzzing like every nerve had woken up at once. And I hated him for doing this to me — for getting under my skin, for making me want things I had no business wanting.

And then I did something reckless.

I kissed him.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't slow. It was messy and desperate, my hands fisting his jacket, like I was trying to shut him up — or maybe shut myself up.

For a second, he didn't move. And then his arms were around my waist, pulling me closer, and everything tilted.

The world spun. My heart raced. And when he kissed me back — really kissed me back — I knew I was completely, hopelessly screwed.

Because I liked it.

I liked the way his hands slid up my back. I liked the way his fingers tangled in my hair. I liked the way he kissed like he'd been waiting for this — like maybe I wasn't the only one losing my mind.

But then reality crashed back.

I pushed away so fast, I almost fell off the porch railing. "I—" My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. "That—That was—"

"Real?" he finished, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Drunk," I said quickly. "That was drunk. I—I didn't mean—"

"Sure you didn't." His voice was soft, but there was something smug in it that made me want to both slap him and kiss him again.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

"I should go," I blurted out, jumping down from the railing. "Thanks for the ride. Or the near-murder. Whatever this was."

"Parker—"

But I was already gone, slipping into the crowd and heading for the exit like my life depended on it.

I didn't stop moving until I was outside the gates, the cool air stinging my face.

My phone buzzed.

> [Pink Savage Exclusive]

Okay, Savage readers. Ever kiss someone you definitely shouldn't? Asking for a friend.

But hey — some people are like fire. You know you'll get burned, but you touch them anyway.

I'd say I regret it… but we both know I'd be lying. 💋

As soon as I hit post, regret slammed into me full-force.

Because one thing was clear.

Leo and Bill had both gotten into my head. And now I had no idea what to do about it.

And the worst part?

I wasn't sure I wanted them to leave.