The living room pulsed with music and heat, the air thick with laughter and teenage recklessness. Half-sloshed kids in messy, last-minute costumes spilled out of the kitchen, beer cups in hand. Fairy lights blinked orange overhead, casting a warm glow over the chaos. And in the middle of it all, Johnny Kavanagh stood still, his gaze scanning the room like he was already over it.

Until he saw her.

Tucked against the far wall, she cradled a plastic cup, feigning interest in the blur of bodies moving in front of her. But Johnny knew better—she wasn’t really looking at anything. Her glittery halo tilted in her hair, and the silver eyeshadow smeared at the corner of one eye made her look more fragile than usual.

She hadn’t looked at him once all night.

And he’d had enough.

He pushed through the crowd, straight toward her. No hesitation. No calling her name. He wasn’t going to give her time to slip away again. When he stopped in front of her, he didn’t touch her—just pressed his palm flat to the wall beside her head, leaning in close enough that she tensed.

“Why’ve you been ignoring me?” he asked, voice low and tight.

She didn’t meet his gaze. Just stared ahead like if she concentrated hard enough, he’d disappear. Like if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t feel everything she’d tried so hard to bury.

“I’m not,” she said, barely audible.

“Bullshit.”

The word cracked through the bass of the music. She flinched. Still didn’t look at him.

“You kiss me one night, then act like I don’t exist the next. What, was it that bad?”

Her head snapped up then, and he saw it—guilt. Thick and raw in her eyes, like it had been sitting behind her ribs since the moment their lips parted.

“It wasn’t bad,” she whispered, voice breaking. “That’s the problem.”

She turned away again, fingers tightening around her cup like it could anchor her.

“I made a promise to your sister. We both did. No brothers. No crossed lines. That kiss… it broke the rule.”

Johnny let out a short, bitter breath. “Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Is a stupid rule worth pretending it didn’t mean anything?”

She didn’t answer.

He leaned in a little closer. Still didn’t touch her. But his voice dropped to a quiet, dangerous softness.

“’Cause I’m not pretending.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. The music and laughter kept raging around them, but here, in this one corner of the party, everything was still. Held in place by one truth they weren’t brave enough to speak out loud.

When she didn’t say anything, Johnny pulled back. His jaw was clenched, his eyes unreadable.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quieter now. “That’s what I thought.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

She stood frozen, back against the wall, lips parted, eyes shining. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, aching to chase after him. But her feet—like the rest of her—refused to move.