Josie
The night air bit at my skin as I stepped outside, the faint rustle of leaves doing nothing to cool the heat in my chest. My whole body was still trembling with leftover fury from the kitchen, from Thorne's maddening arrogance, from the pasta now wasted across the floor. Kiel followed me out, his voice low and careful, like he was trying not to spook me.
"You didn't have to do all that, Josie," he said softly. "I could've handled him."
I spun on him, frustration bubbling up so quickly it burned my throat. "You didn't need to do all this, Kiel! Don't you get it? All my effort—" I gestured wildly toward the house, as if the ruined pasta were still there to prove my point— "everything I tried to do, gone to waste because you two couldn't stop fighting over me like dogs over a bone."
He lifted his hands, palms out, trying to calm me. "Josie—"
