JACK
“You told everyone it was some rando?” I ask, stunned.
She nods. “Because I was terrified. Of Phil. Of you. Of what it would mean. I thought if I told the truth, I’d ruin your friendship, maybe his career. So I made up something easy to digest.”
“Jesus, Parker.”
“I was a kid,” she says, and there’s no anger in her voice—just quiet grief. “I’d just gotten back from that cruise. The one I’d saved for since I was fourteen. My ex–best friend, Amber, decided that was the perfect time to hook up with the one guy I liked. And I was done. Emotionally fried. I had that fake ID I used during the trip, and I was stupid enough to use it at a bar near campus.”
“That’s where I saw you,” I say, the memory clicking into place.
She nods again. “You stepped in when some drunk guy wouldn’t leave m
