Chapter 19

The rooftop suddenly feels too small, too bright, too witness-y for whatever the hell is about to happen.

I blink up at Axton like maybe if I don’t move, he’ll lose interest and wander off like a bear in a campground. Spoiler: he does not.

Julian gives me a slow, dramatic sip of his champagne, eyes glittering with you’re so screwed energy. Thanks, bestie.

I clear my throat, trying to play it cool, even though every nerve in my body is short-circuiting like a Christmas light that’s seen some things.

"Uh, hey," I say, because apparently words are hard now.

Axton’s gaze slices through me like he can see every terrible thought I've ever had. His jaw is tight, his whole body tense like he's holding himself back from flipping the entire table over. Honestly? Same.

"We need to talk," he says again, voice low and rough like gravel, and somehow even hotter for it, because my self-preservation skills are nonexistent.

Julian kicks me under the table. Subtle. Real subtle.

I plaster on a tight smile and push my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor loud enough to make half the rooftop glance our way. Love that for me.

"Be right back," I tell Julian like I'm just popping to the bathroom and not about to spiral into a public emotional breakdown.

Julian salutes me with a truffle fry.

I follow Axton a few feet away, my heels wobbling slightly on the uneven stone tiles, because of course tonight would be the night my center of gravity gives up on me.

He stops near the edge of the terrace, the London skyline a glittering blur behind him. For a second, it almost feels romantic. Like a scene from a movie where the misunderstood couple finally confesses their feelings.

Axton turns to me, eyes dark, jaw ticking.

My skin prickles with the weight of his stare as he glares down at me like I’m something he stepped in.

"You need to stay out of things you don't understand," Axton says, slowly, like he’s doing me a favor by not raising his voice.

I blink, stunned, my heart stuttering in my chest. "Excuse me?"

He stares down at me like I’m an annoying problem he has to solve. Like I’m nothing.

"You barely know Ashley. You barely even know me," he snaps, jaw clenched so tight I swear I hear it creak. "You think you saw something, but you didn’t. You misunderstood. You’re not exactly the most focused person, are you?"

I feel it like a slap. A hit straight to the center of my chest.

"I didn’t misunderstand," I say, my voice tight, strangled. "I know what I saw."

Axton lets out a humorless little laugh, like I’m a child throwing a tantrum."

I cross my arms, hugging myself against the cool night air, and against the way my heart is pounding like a damn bass drum.

"I didn’t misunderstand," I say, and my voice is shaking, betraying me. "I know what I saw."

He scoffs, like I’m the world's dumbest charity case. "Maybe you wanted to see something. Maybe you thought if you stirred up a little drama, you'd get my attention."

My chest tightens until I can barely breathe.

"What the hell would I even gain from that?" I hiss, fisting the silk of my dress to keep from physically attacking him. "I don't know you. We spent one night together. One mistake. I have zero reason to sabotage your relationship."

He shrugs, careless and cruel, like none of this matters at all.

"You wouldn't be the first. Gold diggers always find their way to the spotlight."

I suck in a breath so sharp it hurts.

Gold digger.

My vision blurs with tears, burning and hot, but I blink them back violently. He does not get to see me cry.

I force out a brittle laugh that sounds nothing like me.

And then, before I can stop myself, I lean in, just enough so only he can hear.

"You know," I say, my voice trembling with rage, "I can see why Ashley cheats. I'd cheat too if I had to fake it with you."

His entire body goes still.

His mouth parts, stunned, like he physically wasn't ready for that hit.

Good.

I want it to hurt. I want him to feel even a fraction of what he just made me feel.

I turn on my heel, my legs moving on autopilot as I stumble back toward my table, the whole rooftop spinning around me.

I stumble back to my table, where Julian is standing, looking around wildly like he's ready to throw hands with whoever made me look like this.

"Hey," he says softly, jumping to his feet, his arms wrapping around me without hesitation, even though I'm taller and teetering on these dumb heels and actively smudging mascara all over his shirt.

"I’m gonna go," I croak against his shoulder. "I need to ugly-cry myself to sleep."

Julian just hugs me tighter. "Want me to come with? I’m great at yelling at people."

I let out a watery laugh and shake my head. "You're perfect, but I need to wallow in my misery alone tonight."

The next morning, I wake up feeling like I got run over by a double-decker bus.

My eyes are so swollen they barely open, and my head feels like it’s packed with wet cotton. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Puffy face, smeared mascara, hair tangled like I fought a tornado.

I flop onto my bed, groaning, and grab my phone with a shaky hand.

I don't even think. I just video call Callie and Emily.

Callie answers first, hair up in a lopsided bun and munching on a croissant.

Emily pops in right after, her black hair braided back and blue paint smeared across her cheek.

Both of them freeze the second they see me.

Callie’s mouth drops open. "Charlotte. Holy shit. What happened?"

I try to lie. Keyword try.

The tears come back with a vengeance.

In hiccuping gasps, I spill everything. The Flight, the rooftop, the words he threw in my face like I was dirt on his shoes.

When I finish, there’s a horrible, heavy silence.

Emily looks like she's about to punch a hole through her screen.

Callie looks like she’s about to murder someone. "He called you a gold digger?"

"I mean," I sniff, wiping my nose on my sleeve, "he didn't say it exactly, but... yeah."

Callie’s nostrils flare. "We're burning his world to the ground."

Emily crosses her arms. "Cal. We cannot literally burn down anything again."

Callie waves her off. "Please. That was one time. And we were minors. Plus, I’m way more sophisticated now."

Emily gives her a look.

Callie grins wickedly. "This time, it'll be legal, I promise, I have a plan."

Emily groans. "Oh my God."

"It involves Monty," Callie says, practically vibrating with excitement.

Emily groans louder. "Oh my God."

I wipe my nose and croak, "What's the plan?"

Callie leans into the camera, her eyes sparkling with dangerous glee.

"Let's make sure Axton knows exactly what kind of girl his precious Ashley really is."