Aria's POV
I shouldn't have come to this party.
That's my first thought as I stand in Maya Hartley's enormous living room, clutching a glass of punch like it's a shield. Rich people laugh around me, their clothes probably costing more than my entire month's rent. I tug at the tight red dress Maya forced me to buy last week.
"You'll look hot," she'd promised. "Derek won't be able to keep his hands off you."
Except Derek isn't even here yet. Late. Again. For the third time this month.
My phone buzzes. Finally. But it's not Derek—it's my mom asking if I'm studying. I shove the phone back in my purse. Twenty-one years old and still lying to my parents about going to parties instead of the library.
"Aria! There you are!" Maya bounces over, her blonde hair perfect, her smile huge. This is her night—her twenty-second birthday—and she looks like a princess. Meanwhile, I look like I'm playing dress-up in clothes I can't afford.
"Having fun?" she asks.
"So much fun," I lie, because that's what best friends do. We protect each other from ugly truths. Like how I don't belong in her world of mansions and trust funds. Or how her brother makes my stomach flip every time he walks into a room, and I hate myself for it.
"Derek coming?" Maya glances around.
"Yeah, he just texted. Running late." Another lie. He hasn't texted since yesterday.
Maya's eyes narrow. She knows me too well. But before she can push, someone squeals across the room. "Oh my God, he actually came!"
Everyone turns toward the entrance. And there he is.
Zane Hartley walks in like he owns the universe, not just this mansion. He's Maya's older brother—twenty-eight, gorgeous, and completely aware of both facts. Dark hair styled perfectly. Blue eyes that could freeze or burn depending on his mood. A suit that probably costs more than my car.
And draped on his arm? A stunning blonde in a dress so tiny it might as well not exist.
My stomach twists. Not jealousy. Definitely not jealousy. Just... annoyance. Because Zane Hartley is everything I despise—rich, arrogant, and treats women like accessories he changes weekly.
His eyes scan the room and land on me. For one second, something flickers in his expression. Then his mouth curves into that smirk I hate. That "I'm better than you" smirk.
He walks past me, close enough that I smell his cologne. "Still hanging around, I see," he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.
My cheeks burn hot. Three years. For three years since I met Maya freshman year, Zane's treated me like I'm nothing. Like I'm some stray his sister picked up. Our first meeting still haunts me—I'd answered Maya's apartment door in pajamas, and he'd looked me up and down with zero interest. "Maya picks up strays now?" he'd said.
I've hated him ever since. The feeling's mutual, based on his constant smirks and casual insults disguised as jokes.
"Ignore him," Maya whispers, appearing at my side. "Zane's being Zane. He's probably drunk already."
But I can't ignore him. Because despite everything, despite knowing he's a playboy who goes through women faster than I go through textbooks, despite knowing he sees me as beneath him—my traitorous body still reacts when he's near. Heat. Electricity. Things I definitely don't feel with Derek.
Speaking of Derek...
I spot him near the entrance. Finally. Relief floods through me until I see her. A girl with perfect dark hair and a body that makes my red dress look like a potato sack. Derek's leaning close to her, laughing at something she said. His hand rests casually on her arm.
My chest tightens. That's the third time this month I've seen him with her. Jessica-from-study-group, he calls her. But study groups don't usually require touching, do they?
"Aria?" Maya follows my gaze. "Is that Derek with—"
"His study partner. Yeah." My voice sounds hollow.
Derek finally notices me. No wave. No smile. Just a small nod, like I'm someone he barely knows, before turning back to Jessica.
Eight months. We've been together eight months. And he just nodded at me like I'm a stranger.
Maya squeezes my hand. "Want me to go over there and—"
"No." I force a smile. "It's fine. It's your birthday. Go have fun. I'm just going to get more punch."
I escape before she can argue, weaving through the crowd of people who all seem to know each other. Everyone here probably went to private schools together, vacationed in Europe together, belonged to the same world I'm only visiting.
The punch table is my refuge. I refill my glass with shaking hands. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry at Maya's party.
"Trouble in paradise?"
I spin around. Zane stands there without his blonde accessory, holding a glass of something expensive-looking. Up close, he's even more unfairly handsome. Sharp jawline. Those blue eyes that always seem to see too much.
"Go away, Zane."
"Ouch. And here I was being nice." But his smirk says he's enjoying my misery.
"You're never nice. You're a—" I cut myself off. Fighting with Maya's brother at her birthday party would be a new low.
"A what? Say it." He steps closer. "You've been dying to tell me off for three years. Go ahead."
My heart pounds. From anger, I tell myself. Only anger. "You're a spoiled, arrogant playboy who treats people like toys. You've probably never had a real feeling in your life."
Something dark flashes in his eyes. For a second, I think I've actually hurt him. But then the smirk returns. "At least I don't let people treat me like a doormat." His gaze flicks toward Derek. "Your boyfriend's about to leave with that other girl, by the way."
I turn. Derek's heading toward the exit, Jessica beside him. He hasn't even looked for me.
"Excuse me." I shove past Zane, my eyes burning.
I need air. I need space. I need to not fall apart in front of everyone, especially not in front of Zane Hartley and his knowing smirk.
I push through the crowd, out the doors, onto the balcony. Cold night air hits my face. Finally alone, I let out a shaky breath.
My phone buzzes. A text from Derek: "Not feeling the party. Heading out. We need to talk soon."
We need to talk. Those four words every girlfriend dreads.
A sob escapes before I can stop it. Then another. Soon I'm crying, mascara probably running, looking like the mess I feel inside.
"Aria?"
No. Not him. Anyone but him.
I turn. Zane stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable. For once, he's not smirking. "You okay?"
"I'm perfect," I snap, wiping my face. "Go back to your model. I'm sure she's missing you."
"She left." He steps onto the balcony. "Boring conversation. She only wanted to talk about herself."
"Shocking. That's what happens when you pick women based on looks."
"Fair point." Zane leans against the railing beside me. Too close. I smell his cologne again—something expensive that makes my head spin. "He's an idiot, you know. Your boyfriend."
"You don't know anything about him."
"I know he just left his girlfriend alone at a party to go somewhere with another woman. That's not 'study partner' behavior."
The truth in his words makes fresh tears fall. "Why do you care? You hate me."
Zane's quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is different. Softer. "I don't hate you, Aria."
I look up at him. In the moonlight, his face is all angles and shadows. Beautiful and dangerous. "You called me a stray."
"Three years ago. I was an ass. I'm still an ass, but..." He trails off, watching me with an intensity that steals my breath. "I don't hate you."
The air between us feels thick, charged with something I don't understand. Zane reaches out, his thumb brushing away a tear from my cheek. That simple touch sends electricity through my entire body.
"Aria—"
"There you are!" Maya's voice shatters the moment. She rushes onto the balcony, worry all over her face. "I saw Derek leave and—oh." She stops, eyes darting between us. Between her brother's hand still hovering near my face and the small space separating our bodies.
Zane drops his hand and steps back. "I was just checking on her. Your friend's boyfriend is a dick."
Maya ignores him, pulling me into a hug. "What happened? Tell me everything."
Over her shoulder, I see Zane watching me. Something swirls in his expression—something that makes my skin feel too tight, my heart beat too fast.
Then he turns and walks away, leaving me confused and breathless and absolutely certain of one thing: I'm in danger. Not from Derek's betrayal or Maya's rich friends or my own insecurities.
From Zane Hartley and whatever just happened between us on that balcony.
Because for three years, I've convinced myself I hate him. But the truth? The terrifying, impossible truth?
I've been lying to myself the whole time.