Page 22

SANJANA

I stepped back into the cold evening air, noticing how the sky had grown darker, with streetlights buzzing above.

I hurried towards Ryder’s truck, my pace quickened.

The silence around me was unsettling. I kept an eye on my surroundings—the parking lot, the store windows, and the building’s perimeter.

No one was visible, but I felt it, the sensation of unseen eyes.

Or I was just doing a great job freaking myself out.

Ryder was still in the driver’s seat, hand on the wheel, head slightly turned, watching me approach. He reached over and popped the door open for me. I scrambled right in.

“You’re scared.” He didn’t say it to tease or prove a point, but because he knew. Ryder could read me blind, deaf, and dead.

I gave a small nod. “A little.”

He reached over, cupping my face, his thumb gently brushing my cheekbone, warm and reassuring. “I’m going to take care of this,” he promised softly.

I grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. “No, nothing happened, I’m fine,” I insisted, trying to sound firm, though my fingers held onto him like a lifeline. “You’re going to behave yourself.”

He flashed a slow, mischievous grin that made my stomach flip. “And what do I get if I’m good, Sass?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. “Actually, I can think of a few rewards.”

“Knock it off,” I reprimanded, heat climbing into my cheeks.

He laughed, pleased with himself.

I let him go, and he took us out of the parking lot. He was silent after that, and I knew his mind was turning over what happened, calculating and revving up to cause havoc for the second time in a matter of hours. I needed to distract him.

“Where were you going when you saw us?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He gave a casual shrug, eyes still on the road. “Nowhere in particular. You know driving helps clear my mind. I tracked your location first to make sure you were home, and when I saw you weren’t, my destination became you.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He shook his head. “You never need to thank me for the bare minimum, Sass.”

I smiled at that, then frowned, replaying what he’d said. “If you were going on a drive, something’s wrong.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s wrong.” A beat of silence. “Do you have a problem with me dating Brooke?”

My whole body stiffened. “What? That’s what’s bothering you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Why would I have a problem with that? Not only is she a baddie, but Brooke’s all-around great. She’s nice and seems to truly care about you.”

The words tasted like sand mixed with glass. Wrong. In every damn way and never meant to be in my mouth. He stayed unnerving quiet for what felt like forever after that, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

“I just wanted to see if you’d lie to me again.”

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.

Oh, fuck you , universe. Fuck you for dangling everything I wanted right in front of my face, knowing exactly how catastrophic it would be to reach for it.

In another life, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d grab onto him and never let go.

I wouldn’t have to love him in the way that I do now.

But this wasn’t that life.

I had to say these next words, get them out before I lost my nerve.

“Ryder,” I began, my voice steady despite the tremor building in my chest. “I’m not lying.

Brooke is beautiful inside and out. She’s kind, smart, and she looks good beside you.

Better than anyone else ever has. There’s a reason she’s the first real girlfriend I can remember you having since Ellie. ”

“Are you saying you’re not any of those things?” He kept going before I could answer. “I can tell you right now, you’re all of that and so much more.”

I looked away. If I didn’t, I’d cave. “You know why this can’t happen, Rye. It’s not about Ashton. It’s not even about Brooke.” I pushed forward before I could stop myself. “You need someone who’ll stop you from being… you.”

God, that sounded awful. It hurt so damn badly saying that to him.

I would never stand in the way of his authentic self.

I adored every flawed, dangerous, twisted part of him.

That was the crux of everything. The ugly, glaring truth of why I tried so hard to keep up this exhausting pretense of only being his friend.

One of my worst fears was becoming an enabler.

Despite often trying my best, I wasn’t the girl who’d always pull him back from the edge.

I had loved him too long in the dark to demand he stay in the light.

It had taken everything, so much time, to get him to who he could pretend to be now. I didn’t care that he would ruin me if we ever let us happen, but I refused to be the reason he ruined himself.

“You mean she’s na?ve enough to believe who I am, even when I’m pretending.

Even when it’s just us.” His glance in my direction was fleeting but hollow.

“That’s the kind of girl who never notices the worst of someone until it’s too late.

You think I couldn’t keep her in the dark forever if I wanted to? ”

I flinched. “I hadn’t thought of that, no.”

The silence that followed wasn’t cold. It was suffocating.

He pulled into my driveway without another word, the truck rumbling beneath us before falling into a weighted hush.

I reached for my bag on the floorboard, fingers brushing the strap, when his hand shot out and clamped down on my shoulder, not in a painful way, but unyielding.

He leaned over and snatched the bag himself, and when he looked up, the warmth I always relied on, the affection I’d come to read in his eyes—even at his worst—was gone.

What stared back at me was something unreadable, laced with what I could only describe as unhinged focus.

I don’t know why, but the advice about handling predators from a documentary me and the girls got sucked into at 3 a.m. last weekend popped into my head.

Ryder would never, in a million years, hurt me.

Still…

My brain served up flashes of that narrator’s calm, clinical voice: Don’t run. Don’t make sudden movements. Hold your ground. Show them you’re not prey.

The irony almost made me laugh.

Ryder wasn’t a wild animal waiting to pounce. He was my best friend. My person. The boy I’d loved before I even knew what love could turn into, before I knew it could feel like both a curse and a blessing.

“You let that piece of shit get you pregnant?” he asked, voice low, but deadly steady.

I was rightfully fucking baffled.

“You think these are mine? What the hell, Ryder!”

He moved. Fast. His fingers gripped my chin. The pressure wasn’t cruel; it was controlled to make sure I didn’t look away. “Answer me, Sassy.”

Fury ignited in my chest, hot and sharp. I shoved his hand away. “They aren’t mine! Jesus, Ryder. I don’t have unprotected sex, and I’m on birth control.”

His stare pinned me in place, scanning every inch of my face like he was searching for fractures, a crack in my composure, any flicker of guilt he could use to justify his suspicion. I met him head-on because I had nothing to hide. He exhaled then, and a fraction of tension left his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I had to be sure,” he murmured, the words gritted out like they hurt to say.

I snatched the bag back and turned away from him, throwing open the door, damn near launching myself out, and then slamming it shut with enough force to shake the frame of his truck. I barely made it to the walkway before his arms locked around me from behind in a brutal, breath-stealing embrace.

“Let me go,” I snapped, twisting in his grip, anger and disbelief boiling over.

“No.” The word came raw and guttural. His forehead pressed against my shoulder. “You don’t get to walk away from me upset.”

“Ryder…” I groaned, my fight stuttering, even though my mind still reeled.

His arms relaxed the tiniest bit. “You can fight all you want,” his lips were a feather-light caress near my ear, “but I’m not letting you go.”

The somber truth was that I didn’t want him to. What had just happened should have made me scream at him to never touch me again, but the truth of how I felt was the opposite.

“Okay,” I relented on an exhale, surrendering to the inevitable. “I get it.”

“Good.” His voice slid over me like a velvet-bladed caress, soft and intimate, edged with promise and threat. “Now you have to stop being mad,” he murmured, his lips grazing my skin, “or I’ll be forced to climb through your window later and apologize on my knees.”

I twisted my head, glaring at him. “That’s insane.”

He chuckled. “It’s us.”

I sagged back against him, letting him carry the weight of the moment.

His lips traced the edge of my jaw next, and I shivered, even as alarms screamed at the back of my mind.

God, Sanjana. You absolute mess. Why was it so hard to just be the good girlfriend?

The loyal best friend? The girl who didn’t burn her whole world down just to steal small, forbidden tastes of what she was never meant to have?

I was tipping closer to the flame with every passing day, knowing damn well it would scorch me alive. I turned around and looked up at him, our bodies still pressed together.

“For the record, I’m careful.”

His expression twisted. “Yeah, I’d really rather not hear about that. In fact, let’s make that a rule. I never want to hear about it. For both our sakes.”

“I’m just letting it be known. Plus, I’m on a journey of celibacy,” I said with mock solemnity. “You’re my best friend. It’s not oversharing.”

That was all I was willing to voice on the subject.

I wasn’t about to unpack Ashton’s fumbling foreplay habit or the fact that I had to fake each orgasm, as terrible as that was.

The alternative had been demolishing his ego in real time, and I wasn’t cruel enough for that.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that Ryder was the benchmark, and Ashton had never come close to making me feel the way he did without even trying.

He stared at me for a second, eyes hooded. “I hope that journey comes with a lifetime devotion, because I fully support it. Especially if it includes not letting that idiot touch you again.”

I smiled despite myself, and then he smirked a dangerous curve of his mouth I’d never been immune to. “I’m not exactly doing anything that would cause that concern either, using your own words, for the record.”

The implication was clear.

It brought forth a barrage of questions I refused to ask for the same reason I hadn’t told him that my relationship with Ashton had an expiration date. Talking about them like this felt like the greater betrayal, worse than standing there, pressed into him.

“So those tests are for the little ferret, then?” Amusement slid back into his tone like it never left.

“What did I just tell you about calling her that?”

He laughed lightly, “Alright, alright, my bad.” He raised his hands like I’d pulled a weapon on him.

“Don’t say anything, please.”

His expression sobered. “I always keep your secrets. Even the ones you never told me.”

“I don’t have any secrets from you,” I pointed out.

“If you say so. I won’t tell anyone about Fey. Not to any randoms, anyway. I’m still judging, though.”

“Accidents happen, Rye.”

“Sass, a man doesn’t come in pussy by accident.”

My face scrunched. “Did you have to say it like that?”

“Forgot you had delicate ears.” He studied me, head tilted slightly. “Or maybe you’ve just never had someone talk to you the way you like it.”

“What?”

“You’re blushing,” he teased, “And all I did was say the word—”

“It’s too dark out here to see if I’m blushing or not,” I interjected despite the warmth in my cheeks. I wasn’t a prude or scandalized by the word pussy .

It was him saying it that had me reverting to some rosy-faced virgin.

And nothing with Ryder was a slip of the tongue.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Fortunately, I was a professional at feigning nonchalance.

Oscar-worthy, really. Too bad my pulse was currently betraying me in every damn way, and he could probably hear how loud my heart was beating.

“Judge away in silence, but don’t you dare say anything or make her feel bad. Like I said, accidents happen.”

“Wasn’t an accident. I can confidently say neither me nor the boys have ever ‘oopsied’ a nut.”

I smacked his chest with the back of my hand. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m trying to teach you biology.”

I laughed, but then my smile faded. “No more fighting, okay?” The words were barely above a whisper, as if even saying them too loudly might shatter whatever fragile peace lingered between us.

Ryder’s grin softened into something gentler. He lifted his hands to cradle my face, thumbs brushing along my cheeks. “No more,” he promised.

From the corner of my eye, movement caught my attention. I glanced toward the house just in time to catch the living room curtain shift, my friends’ faces crammed together behind the glass. The second they realized I saw them, they scattered, laughing like the feral children they were.

I sighed, gently pulling away from Ryder’s hold. “I need to go deal with my circus.”

“You better text me.” It wasn’t a demand, but a gentle command.

“You know I will.”

He caught my hand, stopping me mid-step. “As soon as you’re inside.”

I laughed. “Ryder, it’s six steps.”

“Exactly. And I need a text the second the door shuts so I know I was the first thing on your mind.”

“You’re so cheesy it’s borderline criminal,” I teased, smiling at him.

He lifted my hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss to the center of my palm. “I know this hurt more than you let on earlier,” he murmured. “And I heard every word you said in the truck. Now that you’ve had your say, it’s my turn.”

I should’ve known that would be coming.

Ryder was never going to let me speak so freely without coming back with a response, especially when he’d been holding something back for days, possibly weeks, maybe.

I nodded, too full of everything to trust my voice.

The look in his eyes told me exactly what I needed to know: Whatever he was going to say to me when the time came, I wasn’t walking away from it unscathed.