The second his bedroom door shut behind us, Landon started pacing.
Hands in his hair.
Jaw tight.
Angry in a way that didn’t feel loud.
Just hurt.
And that was somehow worse.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
He stopped immediately.
“What?”
“I shouldn’t have come.”
His entire face changed.
All at once.
Like he couldn’t believe that was what I had taken from tonight.
He crossed the room in seconds.
“No.”
His hands found my arms, firm but gentle.
“No, don’t do that.”
I looked at him.
“Landon—”
“This is not your fault.”
His voice cracked just slightly around the edges.
And that did something to me.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t just seeing the beautiful, cocky, impossible boy I had fallen for.
I was seeing the pressure around him.
The expectation.
The shaping.
The w
