Chapter 5: Walking into the Lion's Den**

Chapter 5: Walking into the Lion's Den

The familiar crunch of gravel under my SUV’s tires was a sound I’d associated with freedom and summer for the past five years. The long, winding driveway cut through a thicket of pine trees, opening up to reveal the sprawling log cabin-style lake house, its wide porch already bustling with people. Music drifted on the warm air, mingling with the scent of pine needles and the smoky promise of a barbecue. For years, this place had been my sanctuary. A home away from home.

Tonight, it felt like a minefield.

I glanced at Nadia. In the driver’s side mirror, I’d watched her transform back into her role. The sultry seductress from the rest stop was gone, tucked away behind a carefully constructed facade. She was scrolling through her phone, a picture of bored nonchalance. But I could see the subtle tension in her jaw, the way her thumb hovered over the screen without actually doing anything. She was as wired as I was.

“Showtime,” I murmured, turning the engine off.

The front door of the house burst open, and there he was. Marco. A beer in one hand, a wide, easy grin splitting his face, he looked like the king of summer in his natural habitat. He jogged down the porch steps, his flip-flops slapping against the wood.

“Finally!” he boomed, his voice full of the casual charisma that made everyone love him. “I was about to send Liam out on a jet ski to find you guys!”

My heart gave a sickening lurch. I plastered a grin on my face, hoping it looked genuine. “Wouldn’t want to waste the gas. Had to stop for it myself,” I said, reciting my line from our pact. It sounded flimsy and weak in the open air.

I got out of the car, and Marco immediately pulled me into a one-armed, back-slapping hug that felt like a brand of hypocrisy on my skin. “Good to see you, man. The place isn’t the same without you.”

“You too,” I said, my voice tight. I felt like Judas.

He released me and turned to the passenger side just as Nadia was getting out. His entire demeanor softened, the charismatic party host melting away to reveal the fiercely protective older brother.

“There she is,” he said, ruffling her perfectly waved hair. She swatted his hand away with a practiced annoyance that was frighteningly convincing. “You behave on the drive down? Nick here didn’t have to pull over and give you a lecture?”

“He drives like a grandpa, that’s the only problem I had,” Nadia shot back, rolling her eyes. She played the part perfectly. The bratty, unimpressed little sister. It was a masterful performance.

Marco laughed and pulled her into a hug. A real hug. He wrapped both arms around her, lifting her off her feet for a second. I watched, my jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth might crack. I had to physically root my feet to the ground to stop myself from reacting. Just hours ago, those were my arms around her. That was my body pressed against hers. Now, I had to stand here and watch her brother hold her, a smiling statue of betrayal. The secret we shared was a living thing, a venomous snake coiling in my gut.

“Alright, alright, let go, you’re crushing me,” she grumbled, pushing him away. She caught my eye for a fraction of a second over his shoulder. It was a fleeting glance, but it was enough. A flicker of shared conspiracy, a silent acknowledgment of the lie we were living. We’re in. Act normal.

We grabbed our bags from the back of the SUV and headed onto the porch, which was a chaotic symphony of familiar faces. Chloe waved from a lounge chair, and Liam raised his beer in a silent toast from his perch on the railing. The noise, the laughter, the easy camaraderie—it was all so normal, which made my internal state feel utterly alien. I was a stranger here, a spy in the house of my own friends.

Marco slung an arm around my shoulder, guiding me toward the cooler. “Beer me, my friend. You look like you need one.”

You have no idea, I thought.

He handed me an ice-cold bottle, and our fingers brushed. It was nothing, a completely insignificant moment. But after the intense, deliberate touches in the car, my nerves were raw. The brief contact felt like a jolt of electricity, and I pulled my hand back a little too quickly. I don’t think he noticed. He was already turning to Nadia, holding a bottle out to her.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll grab a cider. Not in the mood for your cheap beer.”

Another perfect line. Another brick in the wall of their old dynamic. I watched her walk past me to go inside the house, my eyes instinctively following the sway of her hips. I had to force myself to look away, turning back to Marco just as he was watching me with a curious expression.

Shit. Did he see that?

“Man, I still can’t get over it,” Marco said, shaking his head with a laugh.

My blood ran cold. “Get over what?”

“Nadia,” he said, gesturing with his beer toward the house. “She left a kid and came back… well, not a kid. It’s weird, right? All of a sudden my little sister is… a woman.” He took a long swig of his beer. “Gonna have to keep guys like Liam away from her with a stick this weekend.”

He laughed, but there was a hard, protective edge to his voice. An unmistakable warning. He looked at me, his best friend, his most trusted ally.

“Good thing I’ve got you here to help me keep an eye on her,” he said, clapping my shoulder again. “I know I can trust you.”

The beer bottle suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. My smile was a stiff, painful mask. “Yeah, man,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Of course. You can always trust me.”

The lie was so profound, so complete, it almost made me dizzy.

Later, as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, I found myself standing by the grill while Marco flipped burgers. Nadia was on the other side of the crowded patio, laughing at a joke Chloe told. She was a dozen people away, a different world away, but I was aware of her every breath, every movement. Rule Number Two—No Touching—was easy when we were separated by a sea of our friends. But the pull was still there, an invisible cord connecting us across the noisy space.

Marco was deep in a story about his final exams, his back mostly to me. Nadia must have felt my gaze because she looked up, her laughter dying on her lips. Her eyes found mine across the patio.

The noise of the party faded away. The music, the chatter, the sizzle of the grill—it all dissolved into a low hum. In that single, sustained look, we broke Rule Number Three. We spoke without making a sound. Her eyes, dark and intense, held a question and a promise. They asked, Can we do this? They said, Remember the rest stop.

I gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod. A silent confirmation. Yes, we can. And I remember everything.

A slow, secret smile touched the corners of her mouth before she turned back to Chloe, the moment broken. But the message had been delivered. Our pact was sealed not just by words in the dark, but by a shared glance in the lion’s den.

We weren’t just trying to survive the weekend. We were hunting for our next opportunity. And living under the watchful eye of her brother wasn't a punishment; it was the ultimate thrill. The game was far from over. It had just moved to a more dangerous board.