Page 7

The others were just as busy for the same reasons. We got distracted just long enough for Ashton’s punk ass to slip in and ask her out.

And she said yes.

It would’ve hurt less if she put a bullet in my skull.

Knowing why she did it was the only reason I didn’t lose my mind completely back then, but I was coming real fucking close as of late, watching her give him what I’d been starving for.

Smiles. Time. Parts of herself that belonged to me.

I looked at her gorgeous face every day and pretended it wasn’t eating me alive, like a disease that would gut me slowly if I didn’t rip myself open first. Ashton wasn’t even close to being good enough for her.

He and I both knew it, but if I pushed too hard, Sanj would dig her heels in just to prove a point or panic.

She was stubborn like that and had only recently started to get over her denial about us.

So, I haven’t pushed it yet. I played it cool, betting my sanity on the fact that they wouldn’t last long.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” I gently extracted myself from Brooke’s hold and unlocked the truck so she and my brother could get in. I stopped with my hand on my door handle to pull out my phone and send Sanjana a quick text.

You mad at me, Sass?

I had barely slid into the driver’s seat when she texted back. Her name lighting up my screen, made it a little easier to breathe. That was one of the endless things I loved about her. No matter where she was or who she was with, she always made me a priority.

Sassy

Why would I be mad at you, Rye?

Only she called me that—Rye. It started when we were kids, somewhere between breaking out of the baby gate our parents tried and failed to contain us behind, and kindergarten. It was also one of her first words. Something about the damn sandwiches had her hooked. She ate them religiously.

Every. Day.

Rye bread, almond butter, and honey with nothing else.

Her mom used to pack them until she was old enough to start doing it herself, and once she did, she never stopped.

She swore it was the perfect combo. I thought the bread tasted like dirt and misery, but I ate every bite when she handed me one, lathered it in more honey, and forced it down simply because she made it.

One year, she was so obsessed with that goddamn carb that she dressed as a bottle of honey for Halloween, made me go as a fucking slice of bread so we matched.

Cade took one for the team and went as another piece to complete our sandwich.

Thank fuck she outgrew that phase shortly after.

Our parents never let us forget it, though.

They each had the framed photo evidence hanging on a wall--proudly.

The nickname remained, long after I’d grown to hate when people shortened my name.

She was the only exception. She could call me anything as long as she kept calling.

If only that small comfort was enough to untie the knot twisting in my gut, knowing she was with that fun-sized piece of shit.

Adding salt to the wound, she wasn’t wearing her half of our heart necklace.

When I touched her neck, my fingers instinctively brushed the bare skin where that chain should’ve been.

To anyone else, it might’ve seemed small and insignificant, but I liked knowing my name was sitting above her heartbeat like hers did mine.

I typed back quickly, not ready to let this drop.

You didn’t tell me, bye.

I watched as little dots appeared on the screen, waiting for her response.

Sassy

Sorry, we went hunting for food. At least you had a super pretty girl waiting in my place. ??

I reread the text twice.

Then again.

My thumbs hovered over the screen, but I didn’t type anything yet. If I said what I really wanted to say, I wouldn’t be able to take it back. I hadn’t waited this long to fuck everything up because I let emotions get the best of me.

I didn’t want pretty.

I wanted her, and she was so much more than that.

She was also deflecting again as if that would change anything.

This was the fourth time in two weeks she’d made a playful, underhanded reference to my girlfriend.

I wasn’t sure she even realized she was doing it.

We both knew this entire situation was the result of an epic fuck-up and shouldn’t have happened.

She panicked and got with Ashton Bitch-Ass Hayes.

I started ‘dating’ Brooke, my airheaded smokescreen, who was the epitome of live, laugh, love with a side of peace and positivity wrapped in curated Instagram captions. In other words, not my fucking type.

When she chose an illusion of comfort, I chose to do something that would force her to confront her true feelings.

We both pretended it didn’t hurt like hell.

I saw it in the way her eyes lingered a moment too long. Felt it in the tremor of her touch, the way she stopped herself from holding onto me, forcing distance when every inch of her wanted to come closer. She was so goddamn close to breaking.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket, catching Brooke’s oblivious smile. She snapped her seatbelt into place, claiming the passenger seat like she always did. Cade was in the backseat, immersed in his phone. He leaned forward after a minute, resting his elbows between the seats.

“Rook and Nick are already there.”

I nodded to let him know I heard what he said.

The craftsman Cade, Nick, and I shared was a few blocks over from where Sanjana and her friends lived, and a quick drive from Crowsfell.

Our families liked the setup. They felt better knowing she wasn’t too far from me.

If I had my way, she’d be under the same roof and in my bed where she belonged.

Since we weren’t there yet, I had to settle for watching over her from afar like I always had.

It was instinctual at this point. Nobody else was stepping into that role.

I shot a glance into the rearview mirror, catching Cade scrolling through his phone again, probably texting Xander.

There was definitely something going on there.

They’d been hanging out a lot more, and I’d seen the way Cade’s attention shifted when Xander was around.

My brother was definitely interested. It was only a matter of time before he came to me so we could talk about it.

The streets blurred past, my attention split between the road and the tangled mess I'd been juggling for months.

As I turned onto our street, I spotted Xander’s M4 already behind Rook’s lowrider.

Nick’s restored Mustang was in the driveway, pulled to the right so that I could fit my truck.

I parked, cutting the engine just as Brooke unbuckled and hopped out.

My phone buzzed, and I tugged it back out, expecting to see another text from Sanj or one of the guys from the team.

Instead, a number I didn’t have saved lit up the screen.

1021

You looked good tonight, Golden Boy.

What the fuck?

I huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking my head.

Cut e . Real fucking original. Ignoring the message for now, I stepped out of the truck and made my way to where Brooke was waiting for me.

My brother had already gone inside, and as we walked through the foyer, the low hum of conversation spilled into the entry hall from the living room.

I walked a little further and spotted Nick sprawling across one end of the couch, phone in hand.

The usual pre-food debate was already in full swing.

He gave me a lazy chin lift before addressing the others.

“Are we doing pizza or wings?”

“Both,” Xander replied, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and muting Scarface with a flick of the remote. “I’m starving.”

“We can order both,” Rook agreed, flipping through menus on his phone. “But make sure we get those garlic knots.”

Cade, sitting beside him, added a drink order and didn’t miss including mine.

“You wanna throw anything else in, Ryder?” Nick asked, barely glancing up.

“Nah, looks like you’ve got it handled without me. For once.”

He smirked. “Try not to cry about it.”

I laughed, glancing down when I felt a soft tug on my fingers.

“Hey,” Brooke murmured, “Can we take my bag upstairs?”

Judging by the expression on her face and basic context clues, she had something she wanted to talk about, and preferably not in front of the others.

“Come on.”

She slipped her hand into mine, and I turned toward the stairs, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll be down in a few.”

Nick leaned forward, grinning now. “Only a few? Come on, man, you can do better than that.”

Xander shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Disappointing. My boy, I expected more from you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Their laughter trailed all the way up and down the hall behind us, muffled by my bedroom door as it clicked shut.

Brooke’s cheeks were flushed, her steps just a little too close, like she thought proximity could mask the real reason she followed me here.

When we reached my room, she stepped inside with the air of someone trying to make something unfamiliar, we both knew it wasn’t.

She’d been in and out of this room enough times.

She dropped her bag by the dresser with a rehearsed casualness people use when they’re stalling, then turned slowly like she was psyching herself up for a performance.

I knew what was coming before she opened her mouth.

Call it instinct. Or maybe just the quiet curse of always reading people before they wanted to be read. Her shift in tone, the hesitation in her eyes, it was all there. A script I’d seen too many times in too many forms. She started and then hesitated again. Another tell.

“Did something… happen with you and Sanjana?” she asked finally, timidly, like she already regretted the question.

Yes, but before you.

I kept my tone mild. “What do you mean?”