Chapter 3: Sparks Fly at Midnight

3.

"Be mad if you want, but don’t take it out on money."

"Savannah, just take the money, then scold me, okay?"

"Are you really not going to let me spend on you anymore? Don’t be so heartless."

This guy, always so dramatic. He could win an Oscar for Best Over-the-Top Performance, I swear.

I refused to accept the money—I was determined to punish him. He could Venmo me all he wanted; I wasn’t budging.

That night, I had a dream.

I dreamed of the first time we met as kids. He’d just joined our kindergarten, and we were playing with water guns. The teacher told us to include him, so I sprayed him right in the face.

He stood in the corner, glaring at me, too angry to speak. He already had that stubborn jaw—always getting him into trouble.

"Savannah, spray me more, I like it."

What the… I woke up in the morning shocked by my own twisted dream. My cheeks were burning, and I buried my face in my pillow.

It’s all his fault for talking to me like that yesterday!

I… I’ve become a pervert.

My birthday party was that night at a hotel. The whole place was decked out, string lights everywhere, the pool lit up in blue and gold.

Both our parents were vacationing abroad, so the guests were all classmates and friends of ours. Guys and girls. Some I barely knew, but all the regulars were there.

Hmph, I bet that girl Carter likes is in here somewhere!

Wearing my evening dress, I stood under the spotlight, watching the people by the pool. The fabric hugged my shoulders, and I felt both exposed and powerful.

My gaze drifted from the beautiful sorority queen in her off-shoulder dress to the track star everyone called the "Black Pearl." Everyone looked like they belonged in a college movie. I caught myself scanning the crowd, thinking, None of these people are good enough for Carter. Not that I care. Not at all.

I’d arrived early; lots of people weren’t there yet.

Including Carter.

Just before the party started, he messaged that something came up at his department and he’d be late. Typical.

Hmph, sure, he’s suddenly so busy—wasn’t busy yesterday or tomorrow, but just today.

I pouted, leaning on the railing with a glass of wine. The glass felt cool in my hand, the night air crisp.

"Miss Brooks."

A gentle voice sounded behind me.

I raised an eyebrow.

It was that artsy pretty boy from the music department—the one Carter called a player. His hair was perfectly tousled, and he wore a suit that probably cost more than my rent.

He looked familiar. At the start of the semester, he’d tried to help me with my luggage, but Carter intercepted him. He had a soft smile, the kind that looked practiced.

Honestly, this type isn’t my thing. I like guys who can take a punch. This one looks like he’d burst into tears if I said anything too harsh.

No way—I’m not babysitting.

But now…

"Hey, I’m Mason. Jazz piano guy."

I gave him a slight smile.

"I remember you, Mason. At the start of the semester, you tried to help with my luggage, right?"

His eyes lit up.

"Yeah, but your… childhood friend took over."

He got a complicated look whenever he mentioned Carter. It was kind of amusing, watching him try to hide it.

We chatted, and he sidled up next to me, clinking glasses and drinking with me. The music in the background was soft, almost drowned out by the laughter from the pool.

I played along, but my tolerance is low, so I didn’t plan to drink much. But this guy had no sense—every time my glass was empty, he’d refill it from somewhere. The wine was way too sweet, and my head started spinning.

After a few rounds, my face was burning. Instinct told me to stop, so when he tried to pour again, I refused.

"It’s your birthday—don’t stop till you’re tipsy!"

"This is good stuff from home. Have another?"

His eyes looked so sincere. I wanted to say no, but his gaze was kind of hypnotic.

I opened my mouth to refuse, but in the end, I just took the glass and drank it.

As I wobbled, he reached out to steady me—

"What are you doing?"

That voice was so familiar. His voice snapped me out of my buzz.

My brain was slow, but when a cool hand took my arm and pulled me away, I realized.

It was Carter.

"Let go!"

I was still mad, so I instinctively struggled in his arms. My heart was pounding, but not from the wine.

"Carter Hayes, didn’t you hear? Savannah said let go."

Mason, cut off, sneered at him. There was a tension in the air, like the start of a bar fight.

Carter still had a chill from outside. His arms felt so comfortable. I hated that I noticed.

"Shut up. This is between me and her—not your business."

He was angry. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him this mad.

Mason, so cocky before, jumped, glanced at my dazed face in Carter’s arms, then at Carter, and said, "Just you wait."

Then he left.

"Ugh, boring."

My head was fuzzy, and I blurted out what I was thinking.

Carter looked like he almost laughed in disbelief. He pinched my chin, forcing me to look up.

"Boring, huh? Savannah, what would be interesting, then?"

He was really mad. His eyes were darker than usual, jaw set.

I’d never seen him like this. Sure, I was in the wrong today. Even with my scrambled brain, I knew if Carter hadn’t shown up, things could’ve gotten dangerous.

But honestly, I just wanted to get under his skin. If he liked someone else, then screw him.

His grip hurt. I pushed him, saying, "Why do you care? Mind your own business!"

His pupils shrank.

"What did you say?!"

I stubbornly shoved him.

"Go take care of the girl you like. Why are you still meddling with me?!"

"I’m not gonna be the third wheel!"

"Leave me alone!"

He froze. Actually, so did I. The night air suddenly felt even colder.

But I had reason on my side, so I glared at him, eyes red.

"You already like someone else—why are you still messing with me?!"

Seeing my red eyes, Carter was stunned, then realized he’d messed up. His expression softened, and the anger drained away.

"My bad, my bad."

He reached up, wiping something from my eye. His thumb was gentle, the opposite of his earlier grip.

"I don’t like anyone else. I never have. It’s always been you."

"Yeah, right."

I didn’t buy it for a second. Guys will say anything!

"If you really liked me, why didn’t you say so the other day?"

He choked, unable to answer. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

I knew it! He was lying! I tried to push him away, fuming.

He grabbed my hand, holding me still.

"I… I… because I… just come with me!"

He actually looked shy. What the heck.

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