Emma’s POV
I didn’t need someone like Caleb Torres in my life—he was reckless, unpredictable, everything I didn’t want. I wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly he was everywhere. He showed up at my locker with a smirk that dared me to tell him to leave. He’d linger outside class, flipping a coin between his fingers like he had all the time in the world. And somehow, without meaning to, I found myself looking for him too.
Our first real conversation happened after school. He was leaning against his motorcycle in the parking lot, his leather jacket catching the last rays of the setting sun.
“You always walk home?” he asked, his voice casual, like we’d been friends for years.
“Yeah,” I said hesitantly. “Why?”
He grinned, holding up a helmet. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”
I hesitated, my eyes darting to the bike. It looked dangerous, and Caleb looked even more so. But there was something about his confidence—his complete disregard for what anyone thought—that made me want to take the risk.
“Fine,” I said, my heart pounding as I climbed on behind him.
“Hold on tight, princess,” he said over his shoulder, revving the engine.
The ride was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The wind whipped through my hair, the world blurring around us as Caleb weaved through traffic with an ease that made my stomach lurch. It was terrifying, exhilarating, and utterly freeing all at once.
When we finally stopped at a quiet overlook, my hands were still shaking as I pulled off the helmet. “You’re insane,” I said, breathless.
“And you’re alive,” he replied, his grin infuriatingly charming. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
***
We started spending more time together after that.
Caleb had a way of pulling me out of my comfort zone, dragging me into places and situations I’d never have ventured into on my own.
Late-night rides with the windows down, the wind whipping through my hair. Sneaking into abandoned buildings, the thrill of getting caught making my pulse race. Watching the stars from the hood of his car, laughing at nothing, letting the weight of everything disappear for just a little while.
It was reckless.
Dangerous.
Completely addictive.
And for a while?
I managed to push Logan out of my mind.
When I was with Caleb, I didn’t feel the weight of the whispers at school. I didn’t feel the sting of Logan’s betrayal.
I just felt free.
But Logan wasn’t blind to what was happening.
I caught him watching us more than once. In the cafeteria. Across the parking lot. In the halls between classes. His jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Like he was waiting for me to look at him. Waiting for me to acknowledge him. Waiting for something.
But I never did.
Until the day he finally snapped.
***
Logan’s POV
I wasn’t a jealous person. At least, I never thought I was. But then Emma started spending time with him.
Caleb.
I told myself it didn’t matter. That she was just doing it to piss me off, to get back at me, to pretend she didn’t still want me just as badly as I wanted her.
But then I saw the way she laughed with him. The way she let him pull her into his orbit so damn easily. The way she didn’t flinch when he touched her, his arm slung casually over her shoulders like he had a right to be there.
And that?
That fucked me up. Because I knew what she was doing. She was trying to replace me.
Trying to convince herself that someone else could make her feel the way I did. She was wrong. And I was about to remind her.
I caught her between classes, moving before I could talk myself out of it.
She was at her locker, pulling out a book, her face calm, unreadable.
Like I didn’t exist.
I hated it.
“Emma, we need to talk.”
She barely looked at me. “I don’t have time.”
My blood boiled.
“Too busy with your new boyfriend?”
That got her attention.
Her head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing.
“Excuse me?”
I stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to keep glaring at me.
“You heard me,” I said, voice low and sharp. “You think he’s gonna fix whatever’s broken in you, Em?”
She sucked in a breath, her expression shifting from anger to something more dangerous.
“Screw you, Logan.”
“Already did, sweetheart.”