KATY’S POV
Justin goes still. For a few long seconds, he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, but just stares like he’s rebooting. Then his gaze snaps to me.
“Wait… Bryan cheated on you and f*****g said that bullshit..” his voice rises, then drops into something harsher, “and you didn’t think to tell me? Huh, Katy?”
I scoff, trying to cover the fact that I suddenly want to cry. “Well, I had my reasons for not telling you.”
Justin spreads his arms, like he can’t even process what I just said. “What possible reasons?”
“The way you’re acting right now.” I snap, heat rising in my chest. “I’m sure you’re already picturing beating him up.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” he fires back.
“You play hockey!” My voice climbs before I mean it to. “If you beat him up, what then? Lose your scholarship? Lose the team? And then what, move back home? Start over? That’s not something you bounce back from in a semester.”
His expression shifts. “You should let me figure that out.”
“I can figure myself out,” I snap right back. “I’m not a kid, and this is my decision.”
He pushes up to his feet so fast the couch groans behind him. For a moment, he just glares at me before his attention cuts to Braydon. “I don’t want this s**t between you two. Call it off.”
“No.” I grind out.
“Call it off.” He grits.
“Come on, it—” Braydon starts, trying to smooth things over.
“Shut up!” Justin snaps, and he clamps his mouth shut instantly, sinking back against the couch.
Justin points at me, finger shaking a little with the force of his anger. “I asked you to tutor him, not fake date him or whatever this is.” His voice rises with every word, loud enough that I’m sure the neighbors down the hall can hear. “You say it’s nothing, but in a few weeks, you’ll be making out with him!”
I scoff, heat bubbling up in my chest. “So this is because you don’t trust me? You think I’m that easy?”
The room goes quiet, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Braydon watching me with raised brows, like he didn’t expect that speech. He looks almost impressed, but I don’t care. I’m pissed. He said I’m not his type? Really?
“And about Braydon,” I say, folding my arms tight across my chest, “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to fall for him or just topple into his bed?” I stare at Justin like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s suggested. “Look at him, he probably has a fifty-plus body count of girls. Maybe even boys. Who knows?”
Braydon’s mouth opens as if to protest, but I cut him off before he can find a word. “I’m not desperate to add my name to that list, okay? And let me make this perfectly clear: he’s not my type. Not physically, not emotionally, not sexually and hell, not even mentally.” I take a breath. “So…unless you’ve got another reason to barge into my decisions, I’d like to end this discussion now.”
When I finish, Justin looks speechless. His gaze shifts to Braydon, whose easy smirk is long gone, and his face is tight now, clouded with visible displeasure.
But I don’t care. He started this. I can finish it.
“So…” Justin rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting between us. “I can trust you? No hooking up, no… other s**t when I’m not around?”
“Yes.” Braydon cuts in before I can even open my mouth. “One hundred percent sure.”
The way he says it isn’t for Justin. It’s for me. His eyes lock on mine, and every line in his face spells out the same thing: he’s pissed.

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