Chapter 5 – It Would Definitely Not Go Down Well Between…

Nicole’s POV

“What about us?” Rowan said, puffing out his chest like he was giving a post-game interview. “I’m a star quarterback. With an NFL career literally waiting for me.”

His voice dripped with cocky arrogance, like he believed the lies he was telling more than anyone else did.

I scoffed quietly, brushing glass off my scraped palm. NFL career? He wished. Even he knew deep down that Brad was the one now basking in the limelight and not him. Rowan was just flailing to stay relevant, and it showed.

“And Sophia?” he went on dramatically, like we were all in some low-budget soap opera. He slid his hand over her waist and pulled her against him with the flair of a man who needed an audience. “She’s more of a woman than you’ll ever be.”

I didn’t flinch as I just stared at him with my face blank.

He looked to his group of friends like they were his personal laugh track. “Am I right?”

“Hell yeah, bro!” one of them chimed, slapping the table. “Sophia is on fire!”

“Facts,” another added, raising his glass.

Their laughter erupted, filling the room with loud noise. I could feel the heat rise in my chest, not just from the sting of my palms or knees but from the deep ache of betrayal. This had all been planned. I saw it now. The bar visit, the drink orders, the fall, just everything. It was all a damn setup.

“All right, all right,” Rowan called out, like he was hosting his own sick comedy roast. “Let’s all calm down. It’s just jokes, you know. Just fun.”

He left his squad and strolled over to me, where I was still on the floor. I could literally feel my knees throbbed and my hand was sticky with blood. But his presence made everything sting ten times more.

“You’re a mess,” he muttered, with a flat voice- no sympathy, no concern. He stuck out his hand like he was offering some royal favor. “Come on. Don’t make me ask twice.” He said a few seconds after he felt I was already taking his time.

I looked at that hand. The same one that had once touched me like I mattered. The same one that had hit me before when no one was looking. The same hand that now felt like poison.

He thought I would still take it.

A bitter smirk escaped my lips.

“Screw you, Rowan,” I snapped, pushing myself to my feet. “You can go to hell for all I care.” 

I wouldn't know where that gut came from.

And before he could process, my hand flew — smacking him across the cheek with every ounce of rage I’d been swallowing since the first time he made me feel like trash.

He staggered a little and just then, silence hit the bar like a power outage. His eyes widened for half a second before narrowing sharply.

He grabbed his cheek with his jaw flexing as he forced a smile — that twisted, scary kind of grin that told me I had crossed a line.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled. “Screw me, huh? Is that what you think? Baby, you never meant anything to me from day one but you were just too slow to catch up.”

I kept my eyes locked on him, even though my stomach was tying itself into knots as I knew he still had more to say.

“I want all your shit out of my place,” he barked.

“Your place?” I fired back, my voice rising. “You mean our place? I paid half that rent, remember? You said you’d pay me back and—”

He cut me off with a cruel laugh. “You think I give a fuck? You think any of that matters now? Newsflash, broke orphan— when I get home, I’m tossing every single thing you own out of my house. Hell, maybe I’ll donate it to the homeless shelter where you come from. Seems fitting, right?”

That one hit me like a knife.

I blinked hard, swallowing the lump that had crawled into my throat. I wouldn’t cry here. Not again and not for him.

“And just so we’re clear,” he said, turning to the crowd like he was delivering some grand announcement, “I’m done playing nice. If anyone here thinks they wanna stand up for the homeless little orphan girl by all means, speak now.”

He laughed, stretching his arms wide. “Any takers? Huh?”

No one moved and I could literally feel my heart thud.

Sophia sauntered over like she had just won Miss Universe. She cupped his cheek in all fake sweetness. “You’re so hot when you go full alpha,” she cooed. “It’s about time the homeless stayed homeless, don’t you think?”

He smirked. “Just say the word, babe.”

I stood frozen, my fists trembling at my sides. This wasn’t just about ego anymore. This was about cruelty and about completely erasing me.

“Any takers!” Rowan shouted again. “Anyone wanna fight for the broken girl with blood on her knees?”

I stared at the floor with my voice caught in my throat. I wished for someone, anyone, to stand up for me. But I knew better and that is- definitely no one here will.

I knew how this story usually ended.

“I’ll stand up for her.”

That voice was loud and fierce, cutting through the air like a blade.

I looked up so fast and I saw it was no other person, other than Brad.

Why could I ever have known that was his voice?

Maybe, because I was at my worst or maybe the fact that I didn't see that coming.

His jaw was clenched and eyes blazing, his fists at his sides like he was ready to throw someone through a wall. He wasn’t just standing, he was storming toward us, each step filled with so many unknown intentions.

“You fucking good-for-nothing asshole,” Brad snarled, stepping between me and Rowan.

The entire bar seemed to tilt. Rowan straightened, suddenly tense. His face twitched, not with fear but challenge.

“Stay out of this, golden boy,” he snapped. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Brad ignored him. “She’s not trash. She’s not yours. And she sure as hell doesn’t need to take this kind of shit from you.”

Rowan squared up, his shoulders rolling like he was warming up for a hit.

“Back off, weak defender,” Rowan spat. “Or I’ll break your damn jaw.”

“You can try,” Brad said, barely flinching.

The tension was thick, like one spark could set the whole place on fire.