“We used to dance until dawn—at least, Cal did. Girls didn’t ask me to dance much, not unless Cal made them.” “I would ask you to dance,” I murmur back to him, my eyes still on the barracks. Will they be ours tomorrow? Maven doesn’t answer, shifting in his seat as we coast to a stop. He will always choose you. “I feel nothing for Cal,” I whisper in his ear as we clamber out of the transport. He smiles, his hand closing around mine, and I tell myself it’s not a lie.
