Nick's words didn't land like a question.
They landed like a key sliding into a lock it had been specifically cut for.
You've been fucking him.
I felt my face betray me before I could even try to stop it. It was a physical freeze, the kind of total system failure that happens when the internal alarm is screaming "emergency" but the facial muscles haven't received the memo on how to perform "calm." My eyes probably went too wide; my mouth probably went too tight. By the time I tried to smooth it over, it was already too late.
Nick saw it. A low, satisfied chuckle vibrated in his chest. It was a sound of pure, dark victory.
"You didn't even try to deny it," he observed, his voice airy and light. He looked at me with a terrifying kind of clinical interest. The golden-boy smile flickered and then flattened into something colder. "Though it wouldn't matter if you did. We both know it's true."
