Riley
I'm standing at the door, one hand on the lock, when I hear the heavy footsteps storming down the hall. I know it's him before I even turn around. Callum. He's not done, he never is.
The door is halfway closed when his hand slams against it, forcing it back open. He barges in, his face a twisted mess of anger. I don't flinch, don't move. I just watch him.
"I can't believe you, Riley," he says, his voice low but seething. "I honestly thought you were just playing along with Damien, acting out to get back at me. But that kiss—" He breaks off, shaking his head as if the thought alone makes him sick.
"You've really fallen this low? With him? Do you know what people are going to say about you now? How they're going to look at you?"
I don't respond immediately. I can see how wound up he is, how much anger is fueling his words. I stand there, letting him talk, letting him spit out whatever venom he's been holding in.