Page 35 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies (Men of Medford #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Riley

There’s a particular kind of silence that comes right before everything changes.

Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind that wraps around you like a blanket and says, “Breathe.”

No, this is the other kind. The sharp, waiting silence that presses on your chest and tells you to brace for impact.

That was the kind of silence I sat in, wedged between Garrett and Beckett in the back seat of Asher’s truck, staring out the window as downtown Medford came into view.

We were headed to Sweet Maple Bakery to meet Lucy for lunch. And for the truth.

I was about to drop the biggest bomb of my life on the one person I couldn’t afford to lose.

My heart was doing its best impression of a jackhammer in my chest.

“I should’ve brought something,” I muttered under my breath. “Peace offerings. Or bribes. Or tranquilizers.”

Garrett gave me a sideways look. “You okay?”

“No,” I said honestly. “I feel like I’m about to tell my mom I crashed her car while drunk, and also I have a secret second family.”

Beckett snorted. “Well, you’re not drunk. So that’s one thing in your favor.”

“Super reassuring,” I said, tugging at the edge of my coat. My hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. “What if she hates me?”

“She won’t,” Asher said from the driver’s seat, eyes steady on the road. “She might be surprised. She might need time. But Lucy’s not going to hate you for telling her the truth.”

I didn’t answer. Mostly because if I opened my mouth again, I might cry.

We pulled up across from the bakery, its blue shutters and golden maple leaf sign looking entirely too cheerful for the emotional gut punch I was about to deliver.

The sidewalks were dusted with snow, little puffs clinging to the windowsills like powdered sugar.

Oh crap, I was about to blindside the one person who’d saved me, and I hated that. My hand was on the car door handle, breath held, when a voice cut through the air outside.

“Riley Brooks! Wow. I didn’t realize you were brave enough to show your face in public again.”

I flinched.

No.

No, no, no.

That voice. I would’ve known it in a nightmare.

Ava .

In Medford?

She was standing on the sidewalk in front of the truck, phone raised, arm fully extended, lips curled into a poison-sweet smile.

Streaming.

Live.

Of course she was.

“Oh my god,” I breathed, immediately ducking lower in my seat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Beckett leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. “That’s the girl from LA?”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Why is she here?”

Ava’s shrill voice echoed off the buildings, bouncing off brick and snow and my last shred of peace.

“For those of you just tuning in,” she crooned to her audience, “I’m standing in actual Medford, Oregon, where disgraced influencer Riley Brooks is hiding out. Can you believe it?”

She turned her phone toward the truck again.

I sat frozen, nausea crawling up my throat like acid.

She shouldn’t know I was here. What the hell was she doing? She had the spotlight now. What was she trying to achieve by turning it back on me?

“Oh my god,” I whispered again. “She didn’t just happen to find me. She tracked me down.”

Beckett’s jaw clenched. Garrett muttered something furious under his breath, already halfway out of the truck.

I opened the door and stepped out, determined to face her.

But this time, it wasn’t just her.

A crowd had started to form, spilling out along the sidewalk. Locals. A few tourists. Everyone craning their necks, phones already out, trying to get a glimpse of the viral scandal turned soap opera in real time.

The bakery door opened, but I couldn’t tell if Lucy had come out; there were too many people in the way now. The entrance was completely blocked.

“Shit,” I muttered, standing on my toes. “I don’t know if she’s still in there.”

Asher stepped protectively in front of me as someone in the crowd raised a phone.

“Back up,” he said sharply. “Give her space.”

But Ava wasn’t finished. She turned her phone back to herself, flipping her hair like she was on some twisted red carpet.

“You know,” she said, eyes gleaming, “it’s actually kind of perfect that Riley’s hiding out in some backwoods town like this.

She was always a small-town girl trying to make it in LA.

She didn’t stand a chance, did she? Playing Hallmark Christmas movie suits her just fine. Even if it is a little tragic.”

My stomach twisted.

“So, Riley,” I really hated the camera being back on me. “What do you have to say for yourself, huh? What is all of this?”

I blinked. Once. Then again.

Because… wait.

Something about the way she said it. The desperation under all that smugness.

“Why are you here, Ava?” I asked. “Really?”

She faltered. Only a flicker. “I’m keeping my followers up to date with drama. You know they love it.”

“No.” I stepped closer. “You don’t drive a thousand miles for drama when there’s plenty in LA. You knew I was here. Which means you’ve been watching me. Closely.” I tilted my head. “That desperate for clicks these days?”

And just like that, the cracks showed.

Her smile dropped. “That’s rich,” she snapped. “Coming from you.”

“You were the one who posted the clip,” I said quietly. “You’re the one who turned it into a narrative. You wanted me humiliated. You built your following on my downfall. So why are you acting like I did something to you?”

Ava’s phone wavered slightly in her hand, her perfectly glossed lips twitching as if trying to decide whether to sneer or snarl.

“Because you started it!” she said, voice rising. “If you hadn’t thrown a tantrum and gone dark, none of this would’ve happened! You don’t get to play victim now.”

I stared at her.

“I left LA because of you. Me going dark has clearly worked out for you. I’ve seen all your brand deals, so what gives? People started to see the real you or something?”

A muscle jumped in her cheek.

“You think you’re so clever,” she retorted.

“But your little followers—yeah, the ones still trying to make me look like a bad person, digging up old stuff that really doesn’t matter anymore—can’t outwit my fans.

” She tapped her screen, scrolling. “Let’s read a few of my favorite comments, shall we? ”

My chest tightened.

“ Riley’s nothing but a manipulative clout chaser who got what she deserved. Can’t wait to see her crying apology .” Ava smirked and looked up at me. “That one got over four thousand likes.”

A sharp sting bloomed in my chest. Not because it was new. Because it was familiar.

I’d read comments like that before.

I’d been trying my hardest to avoid them in the last couple of months.

Ava kept scrolling. “Oh, and here’s one: Jasper was clearly the money ticket, and look at him now. Living his best life with Alexa Maxfield. Where is Riley? ”

Jasper had moved on? It was weird how little that affected me.

Ava saw the flicker in my expression and pounced, a vulture circling roadkill.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” she cooed. “Alexa Maxfield’s got him on red carpets and in music videos now. It’s like you were never even in his life.”

The words landed, but not how she wanted. Not with the sting she was aiming for.

Because it didn’t hurt the way it once might’ve.

Not when I had three people standing by my side right now who actually knew me.

Not when I’d finally stopped tying my worth to the version of me that only existed on someone else’s screen.

But Ava, she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

She squinted at her phone, scrolling again. “Oh, here’s a juicy one. Wait, is she sleeping with all three of those guys around her? Guess we know how she kept afloat in LA. Whore! ”

My stomach flipped. Heat rose up my neck, not from shame, but fury.

Ava’s grin turned razor sharp. “Wow, Riley. Didn’t realize you were going full reality-TV reboot out here. How very 2025 of you.”

She turned the phone toward the guys, slowly panning from Garrett to Beckett to Asher, as if they were trophies on some twisted display shelf. “Okay, followers, vote in the comments, who’s your favorite small-town side piece? Mr. Lumberjack? Mr. Brooding? Or Mr. Please Snap My Spine?”

Garrett let out a low growl, and Beckett actually stepped forward, but I caught his sleeve.

“No,” I said under my breath. “That’s what she wants . Don’t give it to her.”

Still, Asher looked like he wanted to rip her phone straight out of her hand and drop it in the nearest snowbank.

“Aw, come on, Riley,” Ava mocked, flipping the camera back to herself with an exaggerated gasp.

“Are you seriously mad people are asking questions? You practically walked out of a tabloid fantasy. The whole snowed-in-in-a-small-town-with-three-rugged-men thing is practically a Netflix pitch. What do you expect people to think?”

“I don’t care what people think,” I said calmly. “But I do care about boundaries. Something you’ve never respected.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You lived your whole life online. Now you want privacy? That’s not how it works, sweetie.”

My patience snapped.

“No, Ava. That’s not how it works. Just because I used to share my life doesn’t mean you get to own it. And just because you’re hemorrhaging engagement doesn’t mean you get to barge into mine and light a match.”

There was a flicker in her eyes again. That word, hemorrhaging , hit hard.

Because it was true, wasn’t it?

I glanced at her phone screen briefly, saw the comments scrolling fast and messy:

This feels mean-spirited ngl.

Why are you bullying her?

Girl, calm down.

Okay, but who is Mr. Brooding tho?

Is this even live or is it staged? It’s giving desperation.

Ava hesitated, scrolling a little faster, her brow tightening.

“You know what?” I said, voice quiet now. “You didn’t come here to report drama. You came here hoping I’d be the train wreck… so no one would notice you’re the one spiraling.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

And for the first time, Ava looked unsure.

The crowd had quieted. No one was laughing anymore. Some had already turned away. One teenage girl mouthed “yikes” before ducking behind her phone and disappearing around the corner.

The shift in energy was palpable. That sharp, pressurized silence from earlier? It had snapped, replaced by something thick and buzzing.

Uncertainty, discomfort, the electric hum of people realizing they’d gotten more than they bargained for.

“Ava,” Beckett said lowly, stepping between her and me, “you need to stop. Now.”

But she didn’t move. Her phone hovered in the air like a weapon she didn’t know how to lower, knuckles white around it.

That’s when Garrett touched my arm. “We’re getting out of here.”

I nodded, legs suddenly trembling as the adrenaline wore off, leaving nothing but cold and humiliation in its wake.

Asher stayed ahead of me, parting the thinning crowd with a hard stare and shoulders squared, a wall no one dared to push against.

We veered away from the bakery, away from Ava and the scattered spectators who couldn’t decide if this was entertainment or something they shouldn’t have been watching in the first place.

I caught someone filming as we passed, and for one terrifying second, I thought about all the places this moment might end up online by nightfall.

But then we slipped around the corner of the block, where the back entrance to The Foundry sat tucked between a row of old stone buildings and a narrow alley dusted in slush.

Samuel was already holding the door open.

“In here,” he said, face grave. “Go. Now.”

Inside was all shadow and warmth, brick walls and Edison bulbs, the faint smell of woodsmoke and espresso. It was like stepping through a portal into another world. One where none of the outside chaos could reach.

Adam was there, standing behind the bar with wide eyes and a towel over his shoulder. “What the hell just happened?”

“No time,” Beckett muttered, steering me past a high top and toward the hallway. “We need a place to sit her down.”

“I’ve got her.” Sadie’s voice came from behind us.

She appeared with a blanket already in hand, like she’d been waiting for the exact second I’d fall apart.

“Come on, honey,” she said gently, guiding me toward the office tucked behind the bar. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

The moment the door shut behind us, I collapsed onto the old leather couch. My hands trembled. My jaw hurt from clenching it.

And my vision, blurred from tears I hadn’t even realized had started, made the room swim around me.

Sadie knelt beside me, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, her hands warm against my ice-cold fingers. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.”

I shook my head. “She… she said… all of that was on live. I don’t even know how many people saw.”

Sadie brushed the hair back from my face. “Let them see. I saw it. Anyone with half a soul could tell that girl wasn’t out there to tell the truth—she was there to burn it all down.”

A sob clawed up my throat, harsh and hot. “I can’t. I can’t do this again. I can’t go through all that again.”

Sadie pulled me in closer, held me like I was someone who mattered. “You don’t have to. We’re gonna take care of you, Riley. You’re going to be okay. Medford will make sure of it.”