(Bryan's POV)

I had seen some shit in my life.

Intense baseball games, chaotic locker room brawls, even a fight outside a bar when Ethan ran his mouth to the wrong guy.

But nothing—nothing—prepared me for the absolute disaster zone that was Amber's dorm room while she and Isabella got ready for this party.

I stood in the doorway, arms crossed, taking in the mess.

Makeup was scattered across the desk. Clothes were everywhere—on the bed, on the chair, even hanging off the corner of a lamp. Hair products, perfume bottles, and one very suspicious curling iron that had been left on way too long took up every available surface.

And in the middle of it all—Amber and Isabella, arguing over shoes.

"I'm telling you, these go better with your dress!" Isabella insisted, holding up a pair of heels.

Amber groaned, rubbing her temples. "Izzy, I can barely walk in those!"

I leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "You literally dance on your toes for fun, and you can't handle heels?"

Amber spun to glare at me. "I wasn't asking for commentary, Munzo."

I held up my hands. "Just an observation."

Isabella snorted, still rummaging through Amber's closet. "Bryan, tell her she has to wear these."

I shrugged, grinning. "I mean, she'd look hot, but if she breaks her ankle, that's kinda my problem."

Amber shot me another glare before grabbing a different pair of shoes and throwing them onto the bed. "I'm wearing these. End of discussion."

Isabella huffed. "Fine. But I'm still in charge of accessories."

Amber groaned again.

I watched all of this unfold, deeply amused but also slightly concerned for my safety.

"How long is this gonna take?" I asked, glancing at the clock.

Amber was half-dressed, hair still pinned up messily, mascara on only one eye.

"However long it takes," Isabella said, smirking. "You boys never understand the process."

"Because the process is insane," I muttered.

Amber ignored me, grabbing her lipstick and swiping it across her lips.

I watched her in the mirror, distracted for a second too long.

She caught me staring and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked.

I smirked. "Nothing. Just thinking you might actually kill me tonight."

She rolled her eyes, finishing the last touch of her makeup before tossing the lipstick on the desk.

"Okay," she sighed, brushing her hands down her dress. "I think I'm ready."

Finally.

Isabella grinned, linking her arm through Amber's. "You look hot, babe. Bryan's gonna lose his mind."

Amber blushed, but I saw the corner of her lips twitch.

I pushed off the doorframe, stepping toward her, my gaze drifting over her slowly.

Yeah. I was definitely in trouble.

"You look good, Amber," I murmured, reaching out to tug her closer by the waist.

She tilted her head, amused. "Only good?"

I smirked, leaning in, my lips barely brushing her ear. "You want the full version, or should I save it for later?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and I grinned, satisfied.

Isabella groaned loudly. "Oh my God, please don't start making out before we even leave!"

Amber shoved me away, laughing. "Let's just go before she loses her mind."

I chuckled, grabbing my keys.

This night was about to get interesting.

The drive to Ethan's house should've been easy.

It was just a short trip into the city, and with Isabella in the back seat chattering non-stop about how this party was going to be "legendary," I should have been focused on keeping my eyes on the road and ignoring her dramatic predictions.

But my mind was somewhere else.

Or rather, stuck on one very specific problem—

The offer.

I hadn't told Amber.

And now, I had three weeks left to decide.

I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, my jaw tensing.

I knew what I should do. Any sane person would take the offer. This was the kind of thing guys would kill for. The MLB didn't just hand out opportunities like this. If I turned it down, there was no telling when or if I'd ever get another shot.

And yet—

I glanced at Amber in the passenger seat.

She was watching the city lights pass by through the window, her fingers lightly tapping against her knee, completely unaware of the battle going on in my head.

She looked calm, happy, excited for the night. And for a second, I wondered if she'd still look like that once she found out I might be leaving.

I knew she'd support me. That wasn't the issue.

The issue was... what happens to us when I go?

Amber had her own dreams. Her entire life was here. Ballet, school, teaching—it wasn't something she could just up and leave.

And I wasn't sure how to balance both.

A long-distance relationship? I didn't even know if that was something she'd be willing to do. And even if she was... would it work?

Would we work?

I exhaled through my nose, trying to shove the thoughts down, but they were louder than ever.

And I had no answers.

"Bryan, you're being weird again."

Amber's voice snapped me out of it, and I blinked, realizing I had been gripping the wheel like I was about to fight someone.

I forced my fingers to relax, clearing my throat. "What?"

Amber turned to me, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "You're all tense. What's up?"

I shrugged, playing it off. "Nothing. Just thinking."

Amber narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it.

Isabella, still in the back, piped up. "You better not be thinking about bailing on this party, Munzo, because I swear to God—"

"I'm not bailing," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Amber was still watching me. Too closely.

I could feel it, like she was trying to read my mind.

But after a second, she let it go, shaking her head as she turned back toward the window. "You're acting weird lately."

I forced a smirk. "That's just my natural charm, Ballerina."

Amber rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say."

She let it drop.

For now.

But I knew I couldn't keep it from her forever.

Sooner or later, I'd have to tell her.

I just wasn't sure if I was ready for her reaction.

—-------------

Ethan's house was already packed by the time we pulled up. The music was loud enough to feel in my chest, bass thumping through the pavement as people spilled onto the front lawn, drinking, talking, and laughing like this was the best night of their lives.

Isabella was out of the car before I even put it in park, dragging Amber behind her with zero hesitation.

Amber looked up at the three-story house, where someone was already dangling out of a second-floor window, beer in hand, and sighed.

"I already regret this," she muttered.

I smirked, stepping out of the car. "Too late now."

Amber shot me a glare over her shoulder, but I caught the tiny smile she was trying to hide.

Yeah, she was gonna have fun.

The second we stepped inside, the heat of bodies, alcohol, and bad decisions hit me like a wave.

The living room had been turned into a dance floor, furniture pushed to the walls, people already grinding on each other like it was a club. The kitchen was a makeshift bar, with bottles of alcohol scattered across the counter and Ethan's poor dining table being used for beer pong.

Ethan himself was standing on the couch, already half-drunk, yelling about something no one was listening to.

The second he spotted us, he jumped down, stumbling toward me with a grin that meant trouble.

"MY FAVORITE PEOPLE HAVE ARRIVED!" he yelled, throwing his arms out dramatically.

Amber and Isabella laughed, pushing through the crowd.

Ethan slung an arm over my shoulder. "Bryan, my guy. Finally."

I shoved him off, grinning. "You started without us."

"Obviously," he said, completely unashamed.

Then his gaze landed on Amber.

"And you—" he pointed at her, eyes lighting up. "Are you ready to get absolutely wasted?"

Amber gave him a look. "I don't think I need to be wasted."

Isabella looped her arm through hers, laughing. "You so do. Come on, drinks!"

Before Amber could protest, she was being dragged toward the kitchen.

I shook my head, amused.

—----------------------

An hour in, and Amber was feeling it.

Not totally gone, but definitely buzzed.

She was sitting on the kitchen counter, holding some pink drink Isabella shoved into her hands, cheeks flushed, legs swinging slightly.

And she was smiling.

Not just the small, shy smiles she usually gave—a real, uninhibited, glowing smile.

I leaned against the counter, watching her, smirking. "How are we feeling?"

Amber gave me a flat look. "I'm fine."

I chuckled. "You sure? You're looking kinda giggly."

She huffed, shoving my shoulder. "It's the energy in here, okay?"

I raised a brow. "Uh-huh. Definitely not the alcohol."

Amber rolled her eyes, sipping her drink.

The game of beer pong at the table was getting louder, people cheering as Kevin absolutely destroyed some random guy. Isabella was in the middle of arguing with Ethan over which tequila was the "superior choice," and Kyle was currently trying to prevent someone from setting a couch on fire.

Absolute chaos.

And yet, all I could focus on was her.

The way her hair kept slipping over her shoulder, the way her lips were slightly stained from her drink, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed at something Isabella said.

I was so fucking gone for her.

And I didn't even care.

I don't know how it started, but suddenly we were playing Never Have I Ever in the living room, sitting in a loose circle on the floor, red cups in hand.

And shit escalated fast.

"I've never hooked up with someone in a car," Kevin smirked.

Kyle immediately drank.

Amber's eyes widened. "Kyle!"

Kyle shrugged. "It was a long summer."

Amber gagged. "Oh my god."

"Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room," Isabella grinned.

Amber froze for half a second, then slowly took a sip.

Ethan pointed dramatically. "That's YOU, Munzo."

Amber kicked him. "Shut up."

And just like that, the teasing turned into even more drinking, and the night blurred into laughter, music, and too many shots.

It was perfect.

Until Ethan fucked it all up.

It happened so fast.

One second, we were just drinking, playing games, and making fun of Kevin for losing beer pong to a freshman.

The next—

Ethan was standing on the table, raising his cup in the air.

"TO BRYAN!" he yelled, swaying slightly.

I immediately tensed.

"TO BRYAN AND HIS BIG FUCKING OFFER!" Ethan grinned like an idiot. "YOU'RE LOOKING AT A FUTURE PRO BASEBALL PLAYER, PEOPLE!"

Silence.

The music was still playing, but in our circle, everything stopped.

Amber blinked.

My stomach plummeted.

Isabella, Kyle, and Kevin whipped their heads toward me, eyes wide.

Amber's brows furrowed slightly, like she was trying to put together a puzzle that wasn't making sense.

I clenched my jaw, hating every second of this.

Ethan, still on the table, laughed. "Dude, why do you look like I just outed you for murder? It's a good thing! We should be celebrating!"

Amber turned to me, voice quiet but sharp. "Bryan... what is he talking about?"

Fuck.

I set my cup down, running a hand through my hair. "Let's talk outside."

Amber didn't move for a second, processing.

Then, without a word, she stood up and walked toward the door.

I followed, feeling every single stare on my back.

I was so fucked.

(Amber's POV)

The night air was cold and sharp, but it didn't do anything to dull the rage and pain clawing at my chest.

I walked fast, my mind spinning, my body barely keeping up with the way my heart slammed against my ribs. The words Ethan had said were still ringing in my ears, repeating over and over like a cruel reminder that Bryan had known this whole time.

He knew.

And he never told me.

Behind me, his footsteps were heavy, fast, determined.

"Amber—"

I felt his hand brush my wrist, like he was trying to stop me, but I ripped away before he could hold on.

I turned so fast I barely had time to breathe before the words were spilling out of me.

"Tell me it's not true."

Bryan stood there, his face tight, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling too fast.

And yet—he said nothing.

My throat closed up.

The silence was enough.

I let out a sharp, hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Unbelievable."

Bryan exhaled hard, rubbing a hand over his jaw like he was trying to calm himself down. "Amber, just—"

"Just what, Bryan?" My voice snapped, raw and cutting. "Just pretend I didn't hear what I just heard? Pretend that you weren't planning to keep this from me?"

His brows furrowed deeper, his whole body tense. "It's not like that."

I scoffed, heat rushing under my skin. "Then what is it like, Bryan? Because from where I'm standing, it looks exactly like that."

Bryan dragged a shaking hand through his hair, his fingers pulling at the strands. "I was gonna tell you."

"When?" I snapped, stepping forward now, my pulse pounding in my ears. "When it was too late for me to even process it? When you were packing your bags?" I said, my voice shaking.

You knew," I continued, my voice still shaking despite the anger burning underneath it. "You knew how scared I was to let someone in, to let myself believe that maybe someone wouldn't leave me. And now you're—"

I couldn't even say it.

Bryan's face twisted, his expression wrecked, but he still had the nerve to sound frustrated. "Amber, I wasn't trying to hurt you."

I let out a sharp, disbelieving breath. "Then what the hell were you doing?"

"I didn't fucking know how to tell you!" Bryan finally snapped, his voice rough and filled with frustration. "I wasn't sitting here plotting how to screw you over, Amber. I was trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to do this without losing you!"

I blinked, startled by the anger in his voice.

But it didn't make me feel better.

It only made me feel worse.

Because that was the thing about Bryan—he always fought when he cared.

And right now?

He was fighting like hell.

Bryan's breathing was uneven now, his body bracing itself like he knew what was coming next.

I squeezed my eyes shut for half a second, my fingers twisting the pendant of the necklace he had given me on my birthday. Holding onto it like it could somehow keep me from falling apart.

But it couldn't.

Nothing could.

I inhaled deeply, my throat raw.

"You have to go."

Bryan stilled.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, the words burning their way out of me.

"I would never ask you to stay," I whispered, my voice softer now, but still unsteady. "This is your dream, Bryan. You have to go. You've worked for this your whole life, and I won't—I can't—be the reason you don't take it."

Bryan's face twisted, his lips parting like he wanted to fight me on it, but I didn't give him the chance.

"This isn't about me," I continued, my chest feeling too tight, too full of things I didn't know how to say. "It never was. This is what you've always wanted. And you should take it. I want you to take it."

The words felt like they were ripping something open inside of me, but I knew they were true.

I had always known this day would come.

Bryan Munzo was never meant to stay in one place.

Not for me.

Not for anyone.

Bryan shook his head, his breathing uneven. "Amber, I—fuck—I don't want to lose you."

I squeezed my arms tighter around myself, trying to fight the way my body was shaking.

"But you will," I whispered. "That's what this means, Bryan. That's what this always meant."

His face broke for a second, something deep and aching flashing through his expression.

I let out a weak, broken laugh. "You think I didn't know this could happen? That I didn't have this exact fear the second I let myself care about you?"

Bryan's eyes searched mine, like he was trying to find something—some way to fix this, some way to change it.

But there wasn't one.

Bryan stepped closer, his voice strained, desperate. "Amber, it's not like I don't care about this—about you. You mean everything to me." His voice broke on the last word, and I saw the way he blinked fast, his throat bobbing.

He was crying.

And that was enough to break me completely.

Because Bryan never cried.

I let out a shaky breath, my whole body trembling.

"And that's why you have to go."

Bryan flinched, like the words had physically hurt him.

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his entire body tense, wrecked.

"I love you, Amber," he said, his voice thick, raw, desperate.

Tears burned my eyes, but I didn't look away.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

Bryan let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

And for a second—just a second—I thought maybe he would say something else.

Something that would make this better.

Something that would make it hurt less.

But there was nothing.

Because this wasn't fixable.

I blinked fast, staring at the boy who had become my everything, memorizing every inch of his face. The way his brows were furrowed, the way his lips were slightly parted like he was trying to find the right words and failing. The way his chest rose and fell unsteadily, like he wasn't sure how to breathe without me.

I was going to lose him.

And then, with a voice so soft, so painfully quiet, I whispered—

"And that's why I can't ask you to stay."

Bryan's entire body tensed.

His breath hitched, his eyes turning glassy.

"If you asked me to, I would," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears spilled freely down my cheeks now.

"But I won't."

Bryan let out a choked breath, turning away as his shoulders shook.

I had never seen him like this.

So wrecked.

So lost.

And I wasn't sure if I was breaking more for him or for myself.

Bryan shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I don't know how to do this without you," he whispered, his voice raw, thick with emotion.

I sucked in a breath so uneven it physically hurt.

"You're going to be okay," I whispered.

Bryan let out a choked breath, his eyes red, his face twisted with too much emotion.

"Are you?"

I forced a small, broken smile.

"I don't know."

Bryan let out a shaky exhale, his fingers lingering on my skin for a second longer, then dropping away completely.

And just like that, it was over.

I stepped back, blinking fast, refusing to cry more.

I had already done what I never thought I could.

I had let him in.

And now?

I had to let him go.

So I turned.

And this time, Bryan didn't stop me.

He just stood there, watching as I walked away.

And I didn't look back.