Zoe's POV
The table was buzzing with chatter, laughter bouncing off the low lights and half-empty glasses, but I couldn't concentrate.
Ashley was mid-story, Guz was halfway through an impersonation of Jason's dramatic hand gestures, and Seth kept adding his own quiet smirks, but none of it reached me.
My eyes… my traitorous eyes… kept drifting across the room.
To him.
To Brandon.
Where he was seated with his friends in a booth tucked away in the corner, shoulders hunched, a glass glinting in his hand. Every time I looked, he was lifting it to his lips, swallowing more of whatever poison he was drowning himself in.
I told myself to stop looking. To ignore him. To remember my vow—no more Brandon Ross, no more heartache, no more confusion. But tonight, my resolve shattered. The pull was magnetic. Something about him had always been.
It wasn't anger anymore. Not even frustration. Just… genuine worry.
