The rooftop suddenly feels too small, too bright, too witness-y for whatever the hell is about to happen.

I blink up at Axton like maybe if I don't move, he'll lose interest and wander off like a bear in a campground. Spoiler, he does not.

Julian gives me a slow, dramatic sip of his champagne, eyes glittering with you're so screwed energy.

I clear my throat, trying to play it cool, even though every nerve in my body is short-circuiting like a Christmas light that's seen some things.

"Uh, hey," I say, because apparently words are hard now.

Axton's gaze slices through me like he can see every terrible thought...