Chapter Three

What was I expecting? That he wouldn't date anyone and wait for me? I didn't wait for anyone to say anything as I rushed inside, nudging Melissa to the side. Of course he isn't your prince charming, this isn't one of your W*****d romance books, Dal.

This is real fucking life.

My blood boiled, not with anger, but jealousy. Yes, I was jealous of Melissa. She was perfect—probably too perfect, and I was just…me.

And what was even shittier was that we were never a thing. We were never an item, but he and Melissa are. They are in a relationship. A real relationship I couldn't have.

I sprinted up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door the moment I got in. The tears stung my eyes, begging to drop.

I was just his experiment. I was just a thing for him to use and dump. Just a fuck toy. His little secret that he thought he could get past.

I felt disgusted all over again—disgusted by even the thought of us together. Disappointed in myself that I still thought I had a chance. That he still somehow affected me.

But I won't do that anymore. I won't be the girl he can use and dump. He can go play boyfriend with Melissa. The knock on my door jolted me back to reality. I wiped off the teary evidence from the sides of my eyes and opened it.

Ryder stood there, my luggages at his feet.

“You forgot these downstairs.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I dragged my boxes inside, avoiding his eyes.

“Thanks for helping me with them.” I was about to close the door when he stuck a foot in.

“Do you need anything?”

“Not really. I just wanted to be sure you're okay. You didn't exactly look good when you ran off like that.”

“I'm fine,” I croaked.

“You can leave. I'm sure Melissa needs you for something.”

I know we both noticed the way I stretched her name, the way I called it out like I was disgusted or something.

“No.” He pushed in, closed the door, and the next minute I was jammed against it, with him towering above me.

“I don't think—”

“Shh,” he said, his finger on my lips.

Slowly, his eyes sized me up, trailing down to my chest. He licked his lips, eyes scanning my cleavage and probably seeing how fast my nipples got hard underneath my tank top.

“You need to leave,” I finally mustered the courage to say.

“We aren't dating. Melissa and I. We've just been—”

“Fucking?” That hurt even more. “You don't have to say it. I know you've fucked her.”

“Dally,” he whispered, and I couldn't take it. My heart was breaking, and I didn't think I needed this right now—not when I had nothing else to hope for.

I shoved him, giving myself space to move away. We stood in the middle of my room, him on the other side while I stayed crouched, trying to breathe, at least.

“I don't care about what you do with her. It's none of my business.”

“I need to explain—”

“You don't need to explain anything,” I almost shouted. I didn't think I could take it anymore, especially with the way I could barely breathe.

My heart was shattering, and the headache that came with it sucked.

“I need you to leave.”

“Dally, if you would just listen to me.”

That was when I stood up. This time, tears trickled down my cheeks, and I could see the way that bothered him. His jaw hardened at the sight, a little bit of anger flaring in his eyes. He had always said he hated seeing me cry. That was just enough to upset him.

“That's the thing, I don't. I don't want you to explain anything to me. You know what I would really love right now?” I paused, licking the side of my lips.

“Is if you fucking leave me alone. Leave my room. I won't say it again.”

He nodded, clearly having gotten the message. When he turned his back to me, I could barely swallow. He opened the door and walked out.

And that was enough to break me. I didn't know when I fell to my knees, my hands covering my face as I burst into tears.

I didn't even want to cry. But I did.

~~~~

Hours Later

I think I should have sex. You know, people often use that as a coping mechanism.

I haven't in a while, with Jackson—sorry, my douchebag ex—talking about us going through

some healing to cleanse our souls for six months before we did anything else. Well, now I know where he was getting his cleansing.

I paid double for seven shots of whiskey, for starters. I'd lied to Jax about needing some fresh air, so I stole one of his cards, and here I was, in a bar instead.

“Which one do you think is hotter?” I asked, pointing to the two men at a nearby table. The bartender's response wasn't what I'd expected; she shot me a weird look while cleaning a beer mug.

They both wore plain shirts tucked into skinny jeans that somehow squeezed at their ankles.

Who wears skinny jeans in 2026?

Anyway, that wasn't a dealbreaker, they weren't ugly. Both had neatly trimmed beards that amplified their low-key daddy vibe, with broad shoulders filling out those shirts and they were seductively watching me.

Perfect. Because I was going to have a threesome.