ZOE'S POV
My jaw dropped as I stared at Leo in complete shock. He'd just shouted at me. Actually shouted. His voice had echoed off the hotel room walls, and now there was this awful silence between us.
I could see guilt flooding his expression, his face going pale as he realized what he'd done. His mouth opened like he was about to apologize, but I didn't want to hear it.
"Don't," I said, holding up my hand. "Just... don't."
I turned around and walked away. "Zoe, wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
But I was already walking down the hallway, my heart pounding with anger and hurt and something else I didn't want to name.
I found an empty seating area near the elevators and collapsed into one of the plush chairs. My hands were still trembling as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my contacts.
Kai answered on the second ring.
"Hey, babe. How's LA? Having fun on your fancy music trip?"
"Kai," I said, and my voice came out smaller than I expected. "I need to talk to someone."
"What's wrong? You sound upset."
"I am upset. Mr. Mercer just... he shouted at me. Like, really shouted."
"What? Why?"
I took a deep breath and tried to organize my thoughts. "I was playing piano in the hotel lobby earlier, and this guy came up to me afterward. He said he was a music producer, gave me his card, told me I was talented. It was just normal conversation, you know?"
"Okay..."
"But when Leo saw us talking, he got all weird and started lecturing me about trusting strangers and being careful. He just... exploded."
I left out the part about us sharing a room. I couldn't explain that to Kai without getting into territory I wasn't ready to explore.
"He exploded?"
"Yeah. He yelled at me to stop, and he had this look on his face like... like he wanted to shake me or something."
Earlier today, I'd been so excited about sharing a room with Leo. The thought of spending the night in the same space, maybe talking until late about music and life, had made my stomach flutter with anticipation.
Now all I wanted was my own room. My own bed. My own space where I didn't have to deal with his confusing signals and mood swings.
"I'm sorry, Zoe," Kai said gently. "That sounds really frustrating."
"It was. I was just being friendly to someone who complimented my playing. I wasn't doing anything wrong."
"Of course you weren't. You're allowed to talk to people."
"Thank you! That's exactly what I told him. But he got all possessive and weird about it."
We talked for another twenty minutes, with Kai making jokes and silly voices to cheer me up. He told me about his photography class, about the professor who kept hitting on the female students, about his roommate who'd started dating a girl from his ethics class.
"She's really sweet," he said. "Kind of reminds me of you, actually. She laughs at all his terrible jokes."
"That does sound like me," I said, laughing for the first time since the fight with Leo.
"See? I knew I could make you smile again."
"Thanks, Kai. I really needed this."
"Anytime. You know I'm always here for you."
I was about to say goodbye when he stopped me.
"Hey, Zoe? Before you go... remember yesterday when I asked you that question?"
"What question?"
"About whether you like Professor Mercer. Romantically."
My stomach clenched. "Kai—"
"I need to know. Because if you don't like him, then I want to tell you something."
"What?"
"I like you, Zoe. I have for months. I've been trying to work up the courage to tell you, but then this whole thing with your professor started, and I could see the way you looked at him."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "Kai..."
"I wanted to keep my feelings to myself if you admitted liking him. I didn't want to complicate things for you. But if there's nothing there, if he's just your teacher and nothing more, then I want you to know how I feel."
I stared down at my feet, trying to find the right words. Kai was sweet. He was funny and kind and exactly the type of guy I should be interested in. But when I tried to imagine kissing him, when I tried to imagine being with him the way he wanted, I felt nothing.
Not like the way my heart raced when Leo smiled at me. Not like the electricity I felt when our hands touched. Not like the way I couldn't stop thinking about him even when he frustrated me beyond belief.
"Kai," I said softly. "You're one of my best friends. You're amazing, and any girl would be lucky to have you."
"But not you."
"Not me. I'm sorry."
He was quiet for a long moment. "I knew it," he said finally. "Damn it, Zoe. You like this Butcher of Berklee man. Goodness gracious."
Butcher of Berklee was what everyone calls Professor Mercer.
"That's not fair. He's tough, but—"
"But nothing. You like him. You're defending him even after he just yelled at you."
Before I could respond, the line went dead. Kai had hung up on me.
I sat there staring at my phone, feeling worse than I had before I'd called him. Now I'd hurt one of my best friends, and I still had to go back to that hotel room and face Leo.
I stood up and walked slowly back toward our room, dreading the conversation we were going to have to have. Maybe he'd apologize. Maybe he'd explain why he'd gotten so angry. Maybe we could pretend the whole thing never happened and just focus on the competition tomorrow.
When I opened the door with my key card, the room was dark except for the light from the bathroom. I could hear soft, steady breathing from the direction of the bed.
Leo was asleep.
I moved quietly through the room, grabbing my pajamas from my suitcase. As I passed the bed on my way to the bathroom, I couldn't help but stop and look at him.
He was lying on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow, his dark hair falling across his forehead. In sleep, all the tension had left his face. He looked younger, more peaceful, almost vulnerable.
My heart started beating faster, that familiar flutter in my chest that I got whenever I looked at him for too long.
He really was handsome. The strong jaw, the long eyelashes, the way his lips were slightly parted as he breathed. Even the scar on his temple from the accident added to his appeal somehow, like a badge of all the things he'd survived.
I stood there watching him sleep, and for the first time, I let myself really feel what I'd been trying to ignore for weeks.
"Yes," I whispered to myself in the darkness. "I like this Butcher of Berklee man."