Brandon's POV
The air stood still between Casey and me.
The only sound left in the room was the faint rhythm of the music — a low, steady thump, soft enough to calm, but loud enough to fill the silence with something uneasy. The kind of sound that doesn't soothe but warns.
I forced a small, tight smile to throw her off, but nothing — not even my fake calm — prepared me for what came next.
Casey's gaze flicked to Brandon, lounging lazily beside Pete, his arm resting along the back of the couch, looking like he couldn't care less about the chaos building around him. Then her eyes cut back to me. Her smirk deepened.
"Alright," she said slowly, tapping her manicured nails against her glass. "Truth…" she drawled, letting the word stretch, dripping it like venom. "Why are you always following Brandon around lately like a lost puppy? Do you have a crush on him?"
The room reacted instantly — gasps, laughter, teasing "oooohs."
