By the time I drag myself to my first lecture, I've convinced myself of three things.

One, whatever happened in the woods on Halloween night doesn't matter anymore.

Two, the bite mark on my neck is just a hickey that will fade the same way all hickies do.

And three, I will never, ever touch August's brownies again.

My neck still tingles, though. Like a phantom reminder of a teeth being sunk into my neck. Somehow that sends a jolt of pleasure through my body.

How odd.

I'm beginning to enjoy being bitten now? I never would have taken myself for the type to enjoy a rough rider.

Or...maybe the tingle in my neck is just a rash. Rashes kinda have that sweet feeling to them, you know?

Yeah, that makes more sense. I'll go with the rash.

"It's very demeaning to tag our mates' mark as a rash, don't you think?" That voice in my head pokes up.

I maybe going crazy, but my mind has never for once used a voice that wasn't mine, when I wasn't thinking in another person's voice on purpose.

No, this voice in my head doesn't sound like me or anyone I know for that matter. It sounds... feral.

"You catch a bug or two from a wild night out in the woods with a stranger," it says, and I imagine it to shrug.

Great. Now even my brain is mocking me.

"I'm not your brain, goddess no, it's dark and empty up there," it corrects. "I'm what you would want to call your other... consciousness. I can't say more than that until...well, you're ready, I guess."

I roll my eyes so hard I might sprain them. "Fantastic. First schizophrenia, then failing statistics. Exactly how I imagined my twenties," I mutter under my breath, ignoring the side glance from a girl sitting two rows over.

"Schizophrenia is a big word, Liv!" It coos. "But sadly, no. You're not schizophrenic. You're just different, and the sooner you learn to embrace it, the better for you, hun."

"Embrace talking to myself?" I scoff out loud and the boy to my left hisses.

"This is not the time or the place to lose your senses. Unlike you, we're trying to embrace these fucking equations. So can you kindly not embrace talking to yourself...here?"

I turn to glare at him and he shies away under the intensity of my gaze.

"I'm sorry," I say with a tight smile, and he gulps in return.

"You can talk to me without talking to the world. I'm inside of you, I hear your thoughts," it bites back a laugh.

"Thank you for telling me that earlier," I think back with an eye roll.

"I didn't think I had to tell you, but like I said, your brain is a dark and empty place."

I let out a sigh and face my notes squarely. Since the professor started lecturing, I hadn't as little as put a dot down. Now he's talking about an assignment I didn't catch, and it's due tomorrow.

Lucky me.

The rest of the morning is a blur of professors droning on, the smell of stale chalk, and me trying not to obsess over phantom hands on my skin and the mocking voice in my head.

Normal day.

By afternoon, I've almost convinced myself that last night's fever dream is behind me, that is until I spot a rare and familiar flaming red head in the crowd.

He's leaning casually against the brick wall outside the library like he belongs on a magazine cover, sunlight catching in his ridiculous red hair.

Green eyes flash when he notices me, and that stupidly lopsided grin appears...the exact one my brain so kindly replayed for me earlier.

Oh. Shit.

My entire body short-circuits. My pulse skyrockets, my legs forget how to function, and suddenly I'm very aware of every nerve ending under my skin.

His scent drifts over and my nose catches every detail of it. It's intoxicating, so much so, that it's like I can taste him.

"Honey," the voice in my head muses. "Our mate smells like sweet honey. And he tastes like honey too, you remember?"

"I would appreciate if you stop saying that word."

"What word? Mate?"

"Precisely so..." My words drift off when he gestures for me to come over.

"But that's precisely what he is to us," it emphasizes on the word 'precisely'.

"He is nothing but a stranger to us, and I believe his name is Zeke, so I appreciate it if you just called him that."

"Right...so he's the stranger that we fucked in the woods, and his name is Ezekiel, otherwise called Zeke."

"Wow, thank you for the brief background check."

"You're welcome." It coos, "now go over to him."

"Nope," I whisper fiercely, frozen in place.

"Yes, he's calling out to us."

"Absolutely not. Stranger danger, remember? This is how people end up on true crime documentaries. You follow a stranger with charm and then you disappear forever."

"You weren't thinking about that when you–"

"Slept with him in the woods? No I wasn't, because I wasn't thinking then. I was high. And please stop bringing that up every two seconds!"

The voice sighs and I feel something warm spread through me. "I'll just take you to him, then."

"Wait... what–"

Before I can sputter out a question, my body begins to move contrary to my rebuttal. It's almost like he's magnetic and I'm caught in his force field, moving closer to him until I'm right in front of him.

He's right here. Real. Solid. Smelling exactly like that addictive, sweet honey that clung to me when I woke up and it makes my knees wobble.

"If it isn't the pretty lady I owe my freedom to," he says smoothly, voice low and warm, like he's greeting an old friend instead of a girl about to pass out in front of him.

I blink at him, brain cells doing their best impression of a traffic jam.

"Uh... hi." Brilliant. Future valedictorian right here.

"What did you do?!" I whisper yell in my head.

"Just tapped into the part of you that wants to be near him for life, otherwise known as the mate bond," the voice purs.

Mate bond? What are we, wolves?

I hear a mental snicker, but I ignore it and focus on the man standing right in front of me.

Zeke tilts his head, eyes gleaming with amusement, and that grin widens. "I was beginning to wonder when we'd run into each other again."

"Why?"

He looks off into the crowd of students moving around us, then his eyes fall back to mine. "Why?"

Again. My stomach flips.

"Unlike a certain person I know, he remembers every detail of your night out in the woods. Of course he does," the voice in my head preens. "He's ours."

I get this urge to bury my face in the crook of his neck, but I fight it off as fiercely as I can. No way I'm making the same mistake twice.

I grit my teeth. "Look, I know what happened between us last night must have been...great, but I was high and I assure you it's not going to happen again. I barely remember anything at all and I would love to keep it that way, okay?"

"Really?" He leans just slightly closer, and my lungs betray me by sucking in a sharp breathe of his scent. "Because your body is saying otherwise, Olivia."

My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Nothing comes out. Great. I'm a fish now.

"Relax," he chuckles, clearly enjoying my breakdown. "You look like you're about to bolt. I don't bite."

My hand flies unconsciously to my neck. His gaze flickers there, sharp and knowing, before he smirks again, easy and lighthearted.

"I mean, not unless you ask nicely," he adds with a wink.

"And if I remember clearly, you told him to bite you," my mind coos.

"Aren't I lucky that I'm the only one with no memories of this, whatsoever?"

His smirk slowly falls off and his eyes look more earnest now. He leans even closer to me, but not in a sensual way.

"Nothing you didn't want happened, okay? I know you don't remember and it's probably for the best that you don't, but I want you to know that I only did what you asked me to."

My face heats up at his words as I nod, and the muscles between my legs constrict. His nose perks up slightly and his eyes darken, but he pulls back from me with a small smile before I can read the new emotion behind his darkened gaze.

"Why are you here, Zeke?"

"I just wanted to thank you for last night," he bites the inside of his cheeks, then shakes his head. "With words. I wanted to thank you with words."

"Actions speak better than words, my sweet, and the actions last night said all the appreciations we need," my mind purrs and I feel more heat creep up to my face.

Thank me for what though? I want to dwell on the thought and question him about it but I'm sidetracked by the look in his eyes.

He looks curious, like he came to find something else out, and not to appreciate me like he says.

"That's not really why you're here, is it?" I take a daring step closer to him, just so I can get a closer look into his eyes. "You're not a very good liar."

He chuckles and raises his hands in the air in surrender. "Alright, you caught me. That's not really why I'm here."

"So why are you here?"

He looks at me deeply, runs a hand through his hair–his fingers stopping where his bun begins– then he sighs.

"You really don't remember anything about last night?" He asks quietly.

I shake my head.

"Not even anything we said to each other?"

"Nothing at all. Just your face...your name...and the feel of your hands on my body and that's it. But like I said, I was high so it's normal not to remember anything."

"Oh, you did say that," he muses to himself.

"Now that's clear," I say quickly, backing up a step. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get away before I melt into a puddle at his feet. "I have... things. Important things. To do. Very far away from here."

He straightens, like he might follow, and I panic. "So, uh... nice meeting you. Again. Or whatever."

Then I whirl and march off before my body can betray me further.

Honey clings to the air around me like invisible smoke. Sweet. Intoxicating. Impossible to escape.

"He's still watching you," the voice in my head coos. "We'll see him again, Liv. Wherever the Luna goes, the Alpha follows."

"Shut up," I hiss, walking faster and ignoring the strange analogy.

But the truth is, I can still feel him. Like heat at my back. Like every part of me is tuned to his presence. My skin tingles, my stomach flips, and deep down, I know that I'll see him again.

I want to see him again.

By the time I get back to my dorm exhausted and drained, all I want is silence, a nap, and maybe for my brain to stop screaming "honey" every time I inhale, and "mate" every time I exhale.

What I do not want? To walk in on my two best friends sucking face on the couch like a they're eating each other's souls.

"Oh for fuck's sake," I blurt before I can even stop myself.

August yelps and practically launches herself off Ethan, but it's too late. His lips are red, her hair is a mess, and their guilty faces scream busted.

"Wow," I drawl, leaning against the doorframe. "So this is what you two do when I'm not around? Interesting."

"We-It's not-" August stammers, her hands flailing like she's trying to erase the last thirty seconds from existence.

Ethan, ever the calm one, just clears his throat and sits up straighter, like maybe if he acts mature, I'll forget I saw him with his tongue halfway down my best friend's throat.

I grin wickedly, suddenly enjoying the moment. "Relax, lovebirds. I'm not judging. Just saying it's going to be really awkward when you break up. And for the record-" I point a finger at Ethan, "-I'm taking his side."

August gasps. "Excuse me?"

"What? He cooks. You don't. I have priorities."

"Olivia!"

"Don't Olivia me. We've been eating cereals for the past month."

"It's not like you were bothered."

Ethan chuckles under his breath, and August glares at both of us like we're conspiring against her.

I move into the space fully, setting my bag down on the couch and then, taking off my shoes.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, Ethan?"

"Uh...I'm off today."

"Right, the fire department let you off so you can come in and kiss my best friend?"

"Olivia!" August squeals and tosses a pillow at me, which I dodge smoothly as I walk over to the refrigerator.

I'm about to grab myself a can of soda when Ethan stands up from the couch he's sitting on and approaches me slowly.

"So," he says slowly, "about this Zeke guy..." his hands are folded neatly across his chest and his eyes aren't joking anymore.

I pause, my heart beat picking up a pace suddenly. "What about him?"

August perks up, instantly curious. "Yeah, Liv. You never finished telling us. What really happened last night?"

God, I was hoping this was something of the past. Although what did I really expect?

August believes I was possibly taken advantage of, and she would have passed that thought to Ethan.

Ethan is not the kind of guy to let these kind of things slide, especially when it comes to me.

He's older and he's smarter. Yes, he does stupid things like agreeing to go to the woods last night, but it doesn't make him any less wiser.

He won't let this go until he's sure there's no threat, and no one to beat up.

Heat crawls up my neck from the sudden attention on me, and my teeth clenches. "I already told you. Nothing I didn't want to happen."

Ethan frowns, leaning forward. "But you don't remember it, do you? You were baked. So How can you be sure?"

My jaw tightens. "Because I just am, okay?"

"You can tell them instincts?" My mind offers, but I shake it off.

"That's not good enough," he presses in a calm voice, but stubborn. "I need to know you weren't taken advantage of."

The words dig under my skin, sharp and irritating, like splinters. I think back to Zeke, to his genuine stare when he told me everything that happened last night was what I wanted.

"I wasn't, guys. Okay?"

"Olivia..." Ethan draws out.

I'm getting pissed already. I know he means well, but it feels like an interrogation and I feel cornered.

"I wasn't!" I snap. "God, why won't you believe me?"

"Because you don't remember!"

The room goes tense. August bites her lip, glancing between us like a referee in a boxing ring.

"I don't need to remember to know it was consensual," I say more calmly now. "I know what I wanted."

Ethan's jaw works. "Olivia-"

"No. Stop. You're not my brother, Ethan, you can't be forcing answers out of me." The words rip out of me, harsher than I mean them.

The second they leave my mouth, the air freezes. His face falls, the hurt flashing clear in his eyes before he masks it. August inhales sharply like I just punched her.

Shit.

"I didn't mean-" I start, but the damage is already done. My chest feels tight, too tight, and I can't stand their stares another second.

So I storm off to my room, slamming the door like the melodramatic queen I apparently am.

Behind the closed doors, I wallow in self hate. How could I have said that to him?

Yeah, Ethan's not Luke. He'll never be Luke. But he's tried, in his own way, and what did I do? Shoved it in his face.

Brilliant, Olivia. A+ friend material.

All he was trying to do was make sure I was okay, and there I was, shoving it right up his ass?

"Even Judas wouldn't have done that," my mind purrs.

"Oh, you just shut up okay? I don't need you adding more salts to my wounds."

"Your wounds? Last I checked, Ethan was the one you threw under the bus and left for dead."

"Shut–"

"You know, you should probably go back out there and remedy this before it's too late."

I could do that, but I'm too embarrassed to go back out there. However, the guilt eats me at me until I can't take it anymore, and after maybe five minutes of sulking, I fling my door open again.

Just in time to catch August ushering Ethan toward the front door, her hand on his arm like she's begging him not to leave angry.

"Wait," I blurt.

They both turn, surprised. Ethan cocks an eyebrow at me, and his jaw is still tense. My stomach twists, but I force myself to continue.

"Can I uh...can I walk you back?" I ask him. My voice is softer this time, almost apologetic. "We should...talk."

His lips curve downward, but after a beat, he nods. "Alright."

The walk is quiet at first, the evening air cool against my burning cheeks. I shove my hands in my hoodie pocket, staring at the pavement like it holds the secrets of the universe.

It's Zeke's hoodie, and I'm trying my best not to fold under the scent of it.

Ethan is silent too by my side, and he doesn't even spare me a glance. The only sounds between us is our footsteps and the low hum of activity from around us.

Finally, I force the words out. "I'm sorry. For what I said. It wasn't fair."

He sighs, hands in his pockets too. "I don't know what's come over you, but you should know by now that all I want is to make sure you're okay. If I sound imposing, it's because I care. And yes, I'm not Luke, but before he died, he made me promise to be him for you. To be your brother, and that's what I'm always trying to do."

Now I feel more like shit.

"I'm sorry, I...I really appreciate you being here for me and I don't mind you being imposing, but it's just that..."

"It's just what, Liv?"

"I don't remember, okay? I don't remember what Zeke and I talked about, I don't know what led up to the moment, I don't...I only remember his face and the feeling of him."

Ethan doesn't press me right away, which is weird because normally he'd be lecturing me about making smarter choices, or quoting Luke like some gospel of responsibility.

Instead, he just walks beside me, hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets, like he's holding back a thousand words.

I almost wish he'd yell at me. At least yelling I can deflect with sarcasm. This quiet, careful Ethan makes my stomach twist worse than any argument.

Finally, he speaks. "Liv... I know you. You don't just hang out with strangers, more so get intimate with them. Don't you think for the slightest that he may have taken advantage of you? Is his name even Zeke or are you making that up? Just so August and I get off your back?"

I snort, trying to cover the fact that his words hit a nerve. "Well, surprise! Olivia finally stepped out of her shell and decided to fuck a stranger."

He doesn't laugh. Figures.

"I'm serious," he says, his voice low.

I want to tell him that there's a certain way my body responds to Zeke. That my mind suddenly became alive after our encounter and it calls him mate. I want to tell him that his scent holds a power over me that none other has ever held.

But I know that's crazy talk and he'd probably think I'm still high as shit. So I tell him instead, "I saw him today. Zeke? I saw him and he assured me that everything that happened last night was what I wanted. He was surprised that I didn't remember and he assured me it was purely consensual."

"What if he's just manipulating you to believe that? How did he even know where to find you? What if he's stalking you?"

"Ethan," I groan out and pick up my pace. He picks up his pace too.

"Honestly, the next time you see him, maybe get his number so we can chat? How about that?"

"Yes, Ethan."

We walk in silence again. The hoodie still carries that honey scent, faint but stubborn, curling into my senses until my body reacts like I'm standing next to Zeke all over again. It's maddening. Like he's everywhere, even now.

"Because he is," the smug voice in my head chimes in. "He's everywhere you go, now."

"Fantastic," I mutter under my breath. "Even my hallucinations have a stalker kink now."

"What?" Ethan glances at me.

"Nothing," I say quickly, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Just talking to myself. You know me."

"Yeah," he says softly. "I do."

We reach his street faster than I expect, and I stop at the bottom of the steps to his house. For a moment, neither of us moves. The porch light flickers above us, painting the night in a pale glow.

I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, staring at the ground. "Look, Ethan... I really didn't mean what I said earlier. About you not being Luke."

He exhales slowly. "You did. And you're right. I'm not him."

My head snaps up. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes...God, his eyes look tired, and sad.

"I've tried, Liv," he continues. "I've tried to look out for you the way he would have. But I know I can't replace him. I just...I don't want you to feel alone."

My chest aches and the guilt I've been dragging around all day doubles in weight.

"I know," I whisper. "And I appreciate it. More than I say. But I don't want you to carry all my mess. You've got your own life. And now-" I smirk weakly, "-apparently, my best friend's lipstick smeared across your face."

That earns a faint laugh out of him, and relief loosens the knot in my chest.

"Yeah, about that..." he starts, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't," I cut in quickly, holding up a hand. "Save the awkward talk. If you two are official now, fine. Just don't do it on the couch where I eat my popcorn, okay?"

He chuckles again, shaking his head. "You're a mess up there, you know?"

"And yet you keep me around," I shoot back.

The air between us softens, and I'm relieved to see him back to his goofy self.

"Get some rest, Liv," he says finally, stepping up toward his door. "And... if you see this Zeke guy again, promise me you'll be careful."

I roll my eyes, but my chest warms in spite of myself. "Yes, Dad."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

He disappears inside, leaving me on the sidewalk with nothing but the flickering porch light and the quiet hum of my own racing thoughts.

I hear the snapping of a twig and I look around. Nothing and no one.

I shrug and begin my walk back to my dorm.

August stirs her half empty cup of iced coffee with her straw, eyes sparkling in that way that tells me she's about to drop news that will either make me laugh or gag.

Probably both.

"So..." she starts, dragging the word out until I roll my eyes. "Ethan and I realized something."

"Please don't say it's that you're related. I can't handle that twist today."

She smacks my arm with her straw, grinning. "Shut up. No. We realized we feel...more. More than just friends."

"I mean you were kissing on our couch, so duh."

"Yes, that and we're kinda official."

I blink at her, dramatically slow. Then I gasp, clutching my chest. "Oh my God, Gus, does this mean... Ethan's going to give me little blonde, freckled nieces and nephews who'll call me Auntie Liv?"

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn't deny it. "Well...maybe someday. But we're taking it slow."

I groan, dragging my palms down my face. "Ugh, you're serious. This is serious. You actually like him. As in... like-like."

She gives me that patient look-the one that says she knows exactly how dramatic I'm being but is humoring me anyway. "Yes, Olivia. I like-like him. And he like-likes me back. Shocking, I know."

I sigh as if the weight of her revelation has crushed my spirit. "Fine. But when you two inevitably have babies, I'm not babysitting unless they come with their own instruction manuals."

August laughs, leaning back in her chair. "Why is it only babies that come to mind? Why not me moving in with him when we graduate, which is roughly eight months from now?"

"Oh, I'm expecting that soon. I'll head back to my parents and finally be alone, like I was meant to be."

She smiles, and I reach to pick up a muffin, only to realize the plate is empty and I've also run out of coffee.

"Refill?" I ask, standing before she can answer.

"Yes, please." She beams at me like I'm a saint for fetching her caffeine.

I head toward the counter, balancing two mugs and a plate with the grace of someone who's definitely had practice multitasking.

After getting us the coffee and snacks we need, I begin to head back to our table.

I'm halfway back when someone bumps me from behind. Hard. My coffee sloshes, the pastries tumble, and before I can even swear properly, everything is on the floor.

"Seriously-" I snap, spinning around, but my words die in my throat when that sweet scent of honey teases my nose.

Sweet, dizzying, curling into my brain and melting every muscle in my body like I've been drugged. My knees wobble.

"Mate!" the voice in my head squeals, practically bouncing off the walls of my mind. "He's here! He's HERE!"

I don't need to turn to know who it is. My body already knows.

Zeke crouches before me, scooping up the ruined pastries with a sheepish grin. "Guess that's my fault. I should've watched where I was going."

He straightens, and yeah, up close in broad daylight, he's still stupidly attractive. Tattoos inked down his arms, eyes sparkling with amusement, hair a perfect mess like he rolled out of bed looking that good.

His hair is not in a man bun or a ponytail today, it frames his face and rests on his shoulders, making him look slightly feminine.

"I'll pay for these," he says before I can argue.

"You don't have to-"

He waves me off, already moving to the counter. "I insist. Think of it as my apology for almost destroying breakfast."

"Breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert," the voice purrs. "He could destroy all of it."

"Oh my God, shut up," I mutter.

"What was that?" Zeke glances back at me, one brow raised.

"Nothing." Heat creeps up my neck. Fantastic.

"I told you Olivia, you can talk to me without speaking out loud, dummy."

"I forgot."

"I'm not the one the world would tag mad anyway."

When Zeke returns, he's holding the tray with effortless ease, balancing both mugs and pastries like a pro. He grins. "Where to?"

I narrow my eyes. "You're not seriously walking me back to my table, are you?"

"Why not?" His grin widens, smug and boyish all at once. "You might trip again."

"What are you eve doing here, Zeke? Are you stalking me?" I demand, keeping my voice low.

His eyes gleam with mischief. "Do you believe in coincidence?"

"Oh, so it was coincidence yesterday? You don't even go to this school, heck, I don't even think you're from town."

"Does that concern you?"

"This feels like harassment," I mutter.

Still, I don't stop him when he follows me back to August. In fact, I try as much as I discreetly can to breathe him all in and enjoy his casual company.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but... yeah. I'm suddenly insane over this strange beauty of a man.

"August, this is... Zeke," I say flatly as soon as we reach our table.

August looks up, and her jaw literally drops. Subtlety is dead. "Oh. My. God."

Zeke flashes her a smile so charming, that something ugly in me wakes up and I want to strangle him.

"Nice to meet you, August. I hear you've got Olivia wrapped around your finger."

August giggles...giggles! And I know I've lost her. "She exaggerates everything. Don't listen to her."

"Oh, I don't," Zeke says lightly, sliding into the seat beside me like he owns the place. "But it's fun watching her try."

August laughs again, and my blood pressure skyrockets.

Zeke looks away briefly and August mouths to me, "That's him? THE Zeke??!"

I nod with a half smile, though there's something ugly in me that wants to wipe her memory clean of this meeting with him.

"It's the jealousy, darling," my mind purrs, and though it tries to sound relaxed, I can pick up the slight undertone of irritation.

For the next twenty minutes, Zeke entertains August with ridiculous jokes, exaggerated impressions, and stories that may or may not be lies, judging by the sparkle in his eyes.

And August? She eats it all up, forgetting that this is the man she once accused of taking advantage of me some nights ago.

Meanwhile, I sit there grinding my teeth, trying not to look at the way his tattoos flex when he gestures or how his voice drops when he says my name, or how his eyes twinkles when they meet mine.

Finally, he stands, stretching. "Well ladies, as much as I'll love to stay, I've got some where to be. Can't be late now, can I?"

"Suddenly you remember you have somewhere to be," I mutter, trying to mask my disappointment with his sudden departure.

He winks. "What can I say? A pretty lady always distracts me, not to talk of two." He turns to August who turns tomato red.

Then, before I can dodge, he leans down and pinches my cheek. My cheek. Like I'm five.

But the second his fingers brush my skin, heat explodes through me, sharp and hot, and my breath catches.

"See you soon, sunshine," he murmurs, and then he's gone.

I sit frozen, face burning, body humming like I just touched a live wire.

August, meanwhile, is practically fanning herself. "Liv. He is the most attractive man I have ever seen. Did you see his tattoos? They're unreal. And that accent? That is not Australian, no way. Magical. He's magical."

I groan, dropping my forehead onto the table. "Please stop."

"No, really, Liv," she gushes. "I believe you now. When you said you were with him that night? Totally consensual. I mean... who could say no to that?"

Mortification claws through me, mixed with something dark and sharp-jealousy. "August, maybe think about Ethan before you drool all over the table."

She smirks knowingly, sipping her coffee. "Relax. I'm not stealing your man."

My head jerks up. "He's not my-"

But the look on her face shuts me right up.

"We would not talk about him, okay? Ever," I say instead.

"Hm, we'll see about that."