I wanted to tell him to shut up. I wanted to tell him she wasn't for him. But that would be admitting she was something to me. And I couldn't do that. Not tonight. Not ever.
"Knock yourself out," I said, my voice cold as ice. "She's a lot of talk and no walk. Not your type."
"We'll see," Jax said, his smirk widening.
I turned away, pulling Lindsey closer, trying to drown out the sound of my own heartbeat.
I spent the next hour being the center of attention. I told jokes, I took a dare to jump over the smaller embers of the fire, I made sure everyone knew that Cole St. James was back and better than ever.
But the whole time, I was tracking her.
I knew exactly where she was. I knew when she got up to get a bottle of water. I knew when she laughed at something Sienna said. I knew when she looked at the stars.
It was a tether. A thin, invisible wire that ran from my chest to hers. I hated it. I wanted to snap it. I wanted to prove to her—and to myself—that I didn't need her saving, or her pity, or her "genuine connection."
Around midnight, the crowd began to thin out as the more "dedicated" partiers moved toward the cars or the deeper woods. I found myself standing near the edge of the lake, the water black and glass-calm, reflecting the dying embers of the fire.
I was alone. Lindsey had gone to find a friend, and I'd slipped away before she could come back.
"The crown looks a little heavy tonight, Cole."
I didn't have to turn around. I knew the voice. I knew the cadence. It was the sound that had been playing on a loop in my head for fourteen days.
Maya was standing a few feet away, her hands shoved into her hoodie pockets. She looked small against the backdrop of the dark lake, but her presence felt massive.
"I thought you didn't do parties, Maya," I said, not looking at her. "Too much 'friction' for you?"
"I'm here for Sienna," she said, stepping closer. "She needed to be around people who weren't you. It's part of the healing process."
"Glad I could be of service," I said, finally turning to face her.
The moon was out now, casting her face in a silver light that made her look ethereal, almost untouchable.
"You've been watching me all night. Did you get enough data for your little 'autopsy'?"
Maya didn't flinch. She didn't look angry. She just tilted her head, that analytical gaze boring into me.
"You've been performing all night, Cole. It was a very impressive show. The girls, the drinking, the loud laughs... you almost convinced everyone."
"I wasn't performing," I growled.
"Yes, you were," she said softly. "You were performing for me. You were trying to prove that you're fine. That you're still the 'King.' But the thing about kings is that they're usually the most isolated people in the room. You looked more alone tonight than I've ever seen you."
"You don't know anything about me," I said, stepping toward her, the old instinct to intimidate rising up. "You saw me for five minutes in a café and had one conversation in my apartment. You don't get to tell me who I am."
"I don't have to tell you," she said. "You're showing me. You've spent two weeks trying to bury what I said under a mountain of noise. If it weren't true, you wouldn't be trying so hard to kill it."
I stopped, inches away from her. The scent of her—something clean, like rain and old paper—hit me, making my head spin.
I wanted to scream at her.
I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to walk into the lake and never come back.
"Why are you here, Maya?" I whispered, the mask cracking just enough for the "hollow" man to peek through. "If I'm such a 'black hole,' why do you keep coming into my orbit? Why don't you just leave me to rot in my 'ivory tower'?"
She stayed silent for a long moment.
She looked at the water, then back at me. For the first time, I didn't see the scientist. I saw something else. A flicker of something that looked like... curiosity. Or maybe a challenge.
"Because I want to see if you're actually capable of it," she said.
"Capable of what?"
"Of being real. Of being someone who doesn't need a crown to feel like a person." She stepped back, the distance between us feeling like a canyon. "I want to see if there's a real person under all that noise, or if you really are just the cliché I think you are. I want to see if someone like you can ever actually… give in."
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. "Give in to what?"
"To the truth," she said, her voice receding as she began to walk away into the shadows. "Most people spend their lives pretending. I just want to see how long you can keep it up before the mask stays off for good."
She disappeared toward the parking lot before I could find a comeback.
I stood there by the lake, the sound of the dying fire and the distant music fading into a dull roar in my ears.
The two weeks of "the motions" had been a lie. I hadn't moved on. I hadn't taken back my crown.
I was exactly where I started.
I looked at my hands in the moonlight. The snakes and roses were dark, permanent, and etched into my skin.
Cliché.
The word stung. It was a hook, sunk deep into my jaw, pulling me toward a shore I wasn't sure I wanted to reach. She wasn't just dismissing me anymore; she was daring me to be more.
And the worst part?
I wanted to prove her right.
I wanted to show her that there was something under the ink and the arrogance worth looking at.
I walked back to the truck, my stride no longer a swagger. I found Jax and Theo, told them I was leaving, and drove away from the lake.
I didn't turn on the radio. I didn't floor the engine. I just drove through the quiet, dark streets of the city, feeling the weight of the night settle over me.
She was watching me.
She was testing me.
And for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure if I was the hunter or the prey.
But as I pulled into my driveway and looked at the dark, silent windows of my apartment, I knew one thing for certain.
The game wasn't over.
It was just getting started.
And this time, I wasn't the one making the rules.