Kat shoved the door shut behind her as she came back inside, straw still clinging to her hair and shirt, pieces trailing down her back like she'd rolled in a hayfield.
"Jesus Christ, Kat," Arden's voice cut across the foyer, sharp with shock. She froze mid-step, eyes sweeping over her best friend like she was some wild animal fresh off a rampage. "What the actual fuck happened to you?"
Kat groaned, dragging her fingers through her tangled hair only to send more straw cascading onto the floor. "Don't start."
Arden raised her brows, lips parting like she was about to go full mom mode—but then she sighed, stepped closer, and plucked a piece of straw out of Kat's hair. "Too late. You look like a scarecrow got into a bar fight. Sit down."
Kat dropped onto the nearest bench with a huff, her hands still trembling slightly from adrenaline she hadn't managed to burn out. Arden stood behind her, gently tugging straw out in little clumps.
"Now," Arden said firmly, "talk. What the hell did I just miss?"
Kat swallowed, the lump in her throat thick. She wanted to keep it inside, wanted to shove it all down where no one could poke at it—but Arden's hands were careful in her hair, grounding her in a way she hadn't realized she needed.
So the words tumbled out.
She told her about V showing up in the computer room, about the way he cornered her, pushed her buttons, stole her breath. About the kiss that had left her shaking, and how Phury interrupting had been the only thing that saved her from unraveling completely.
Then she confessed to losing it in the training room, carving a dummy into ribbons, straw flying like blood, and Butch and Z walking in at the worst possible moment.
By the time she finished, Arden had stopped plucking straw altogether, just staring down at her with a look equal parts horrified and fascinated.
"Holy shit," Arden whispered. "You're living in a soap opera. No, worse—like, a bloody HBO series with knives and porn-level sexual tension."
Kat groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Don't make me laugh. I'll scream."
Arden smirked despite herself, pulling the last stubborn straw free and tossing it onto the pile at their feet. "Babe, I love you. But you're so fucked."
Arden flicked another piece of straw onto the growing pile, her eyes narrowing in on Kat like a predator scenting blood. "Okay, so let me get this straight—he had you pinned, hand on your throat, grinding you into the mattress like a freaking romance novel gone wrong—"
Kat's head shot up, face flaming. "I did not grind—"
Arden barked out a laugh. "Oh, you so did. Don't even try me. I can see it all over your face. My God, Kat, you're supposed to be the badass here and instead you're—what?—melting like butter 'cause he's bossy and hot?"
"Shut up!" Kat groaned, throwing her hands over her face. "It wasn't like that!"
"Oh, honey, it was exactly like that." Arden tugged another straw from her hair and smirked wickedly. "You're out here saying you'll never be his, meanwhile your body's out there writing him a love song with its hips."
Kat grabbed a cushion off the bench and smacked Arden in the stomach. "I hate you!"
Arden wheezed with laughter. "No, you hate how accurate I am."
The door creaked. Both girls turned—
V stood leaning casually in the doorway, arms crossed, dark eyes glittering with smug amusement. "I didn't realize we were doing a play-by-play." His smirk cut sharp. "Though I can't say I disagree with her assessment."
Both Kat and Arden screamed at the same time: "GET OUT!"
A slipper sailed across the room, followed by the bench cushion Kat had been holding. Arden snatched up a handful of straw and pelted him with it.
V just chuckled low in his throat, ducking lazily out of the way before retreating down the hall. "Don't stop on my account, ladies. I enjoy the commentary."
The door slammed behind him.
Kat buried her burning face in her hands. Arden collapsed onto the bench beside her, wheezing with laughter so hard she nearly tipped off.
