Part Eighteen - Part Two

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The apartment feels quieter than usual the following week, though the faint hum of the dishwasher fills the silence. I sit on the couch, legs tucked beneath me, flipping through a book I'm not really reading.

Vinnie is at the kitchen counter, chopping something with practiced ease. The rhythmic tap of the knife should be soothing, but my mind is a storm. Sophie's words won't leave me alone, replaying on a loop like a broken record.

Are you sure he's loyal?

It's absurd, really. Vinnie's shown nothing but devotion—fake or not. But now every glance, every laugh, every lingering touch feels like a test. And maybe I'm failing because I'm still questioning it.

"You're staring," Vinnie says without looking up. His tone is light, teasing, but it cuts through my haze, yanking me back to the moment.

"I'm not," I lie, snapping the book shut and setting it on the coffee table.

Vinnie smirks as he looks over his shoulder, his hair falling into his eyes. "You are. And I get it—it's hard to resist this level of domestic charm." He gestures toward the cutting board like he's a contestant on a cooking show.

I roll my eyes, but the corner of my mouth betrays me with a small smile. "Yeah, sure. Nothing sexier than a guy wielding a chef's knife."

He laughs, low and warm, and something in my chest loosens. It always does with him. But the knot of doubt remains.

"Come here," he says, nodding toward the counter. "Taste this."

I hesitate, unsure if I'm ready to cross the small physical distance between us. It feels like more than just a few steps.

But Vinnie's watching me, one brow raised in challenge, and I refuse to let him win so easily. I push myself off the couch and make my way over.

He holds up a slice of tomato, speared on the end of his knife. "Fresh from the farmer's market. Tell me it's not the best thing you've ever tasted."

I lean in, my lips brushing the flat of the knife as I take the bite. The tomato is sweet and tangy, its juices bursting against my tongue, but all I can focus on is how close he is.

His cologne—a mix of cedar and something citrusy—fills the air between us. His eyes, warm and amused, don't leave mine.

"Well?" he prompts, breaking the spell.

"It's... fine," I say, shrugging. "Tastes like a tomato."

Vinnie lets out an exaggerated groan, tossing the knife onto the cutting board. "Fine? Just fine? You're impossible to please, Jellybean."

"That's not news," I reply, retreating to the other side of the counter, needing space to breathe.

He watches me for a moment, his expression softening. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, too quickly.

Vinnie doesn't buy it. He rounds the counter, his movements slow and deliberate, like he's approaching a skittish animal. He stops just short of touching me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

"Talk to me," he says, his voice lower now. "You've been... different since the thing with Sophie."

I laugh, but it's humorless. "What gave it away? The staring? The sarcasm?"

He tilts his head, studying me. "All of it. But mostly the way you're acting like I might disappear if you blink too long."

His words hit harder than I expect, and for a second, I can't meet his eyes. "I'm not—"

"You are." He steps closer, and this time, I don't back away. "Look, I know Sophie said some things. I saw the way she looked at you when I walked up. She's pissed, and she wants you to doubt me. Don't let her win."

"I'm not doubting you," I say, but even I can hear the waver in my voice.

Vinnie's lips twitch, like he's holding back a smile. "Liar."

I glare at him, but it doesn't last. The fight drains out of me as quickly as it came. "Okay, fine. Maybe I am. But can you blame me? This whole thing started as a lie, and now it's..." I trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"Now it's what?" Vinnie presses, his tone gentle but insistent.

I shake my head. "I don't know. Complicated."

He nods slowly, like he's considering my words. Then, without warning, he reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. The touch is light, almost hesitant, and it sends a shiver up my spine.

"I get it," he says softly. "This isn't exactly normal. But you know me, Noah. You know who I am when it's just us."

His words settle over me like a blanket, warm and reassuring. And maybe that's the problem. I do know him—better than I should. And it scares me how much I like what I see.

"I'm trying," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I need time."

"You've got it," he says without hesitation. "I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time in days, the tension in my chest eases. Maybe trusting him isn't so impossible after all.

Later that evening, I decide to take a walk to clear my head. The air is crisp, carrying the faint smell of rain-soaked earth, and the campus is quieter than usual.

Most students are holed up in dorms or at the library, cramming for exams, leaving the quad eerily empty.

I'm halfway to the coffee shop when I hear raised voices, sharp and angry, cutting through the stillness.

I stop in my tracks, my heart already sinking. There's no mistaking Chad's low growl or Sophie's clipped, icy tone.

They're standing just behind the student union building, half-hidden by the shadows of the trees.

At first, I think about turning around and walking the other way, but something in their tone keeps me rooted to the spot.

"I told you this was a bad idea!" Sophie hisses, her voice low but fierce.

Chad scoffs. "Oh, don't act like this wasn't your idea too. You were all for it when it meant ruining Vinnie's little fantasy."

"This isn't about Vinnie!" she snaps, her voice rising slightly. "This is about that thing he's doing with Noah. It's disgusting."

"Disgusting?" Chad lets out a humorless laugh. "That's rich, coming from you. You're just mad because you thought he'd come crawling back to you, and now he's—"

"Don't," Sophie cuts him off, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. "Don't you dare make this about me. You're the one who dragged me into this mess with your stupid jealousy. Do you have any idea how pathetic you look?"

"Oh, I'm pathetic?" Chad's voice drops, colder now, more dangerous. "You're the one who can't let go. You're obsessed, Sophie. Face it—Vinnie doesn't want you anymore. Hell, I'm not even sure I do."

The words hang in the air like a bomb, and I feel my stomach churn. Sophie's silence is deafening, and for a moment, I think she might slap him. But when she finally speaks, her voice is eerily calm.

"You're a fool, Chad," she says, her tone dripping with contempt. "And you're going to lose everything because of it."

He takes a step closer to her, his posture aggressive. "At least I'm not the one still hung up on someone who's moved on. Look at yourself, Sophie. You're pathetic."

"Stay away from me," she snaps, stepping back. "You and your little schemes. I'm done."

With that, she spins on her heel and storms off, her heels clicking against the pavement. Chad stays where he is, glaring after her, his fists clenched at his sides.

I press myself against the wall, my heart pounding as Sophie walks past without noticing me.

She looks furious, her face pale and her lips pressed into a thin line. Chad lingers for a moment longer before turning and stalking off in the opposite direction, muttering something under his breath.

Once they're both gone, I let out a shaky breath, my mind racing. What the hell was that? Sophie and Chad working together? Scheming against Vinnie—and me? The thought makes my stomach turn.

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