“You need to stop fainting every time someone makes you feel something, O’Neal.”

That’s what I’m telling myself. On repeat. Over and over. I mutter it like a stupid little chant under my breath as I stand by the fake champagne tower, nodding politely at investors and trying not to throw up on someone’s thousand-dollar gown.

I should’ve stayed in the dark.

I should’ve never let Reo kiss me.

I should’ve never kissed Leo back.

I should’ve never shown up at this ridiculous gala in the first place.

But I’m here. Smiling. Dressed like I belong. Pretending I didn’t just get pinned to a wall like a badly written telenovela...