june pov:
Before I could fully storm off and slam a dramatic door behind me—even if it was metaphorical—Justin's hand shot forward, curling around my wrist.
"You have to stay the fuck away from Nate. He's not what he seems."
I froze.
Not because I believed him.
But because of the audacity.
I turned around slowly. My voice dropped into dangerous territory—the kind of calm that came right before a volcanic explosion.
"Oh. I have to stay away from Nate?" I repeated, deadly sweet. "Nate? The guy with an actual job and a clean record and, let me see—not a violent streak or a penchant for brooding in dark corners with that serial killer look?"
Justin's jaw flexed, eyes narrowing.
"I'm serious, June. That guy is off. Something's wrong with him. I don't care if he smiles like he invented kindness—I don't trust him."
"Newsflash!" I yanked my hand free. "I don't trust you either!"
His face darkened. "You should."
