His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts clean through the noise of the beach, sharp enough to make my heart stutter.
I turn. He’s standing a few steps behind us, hoodie pulled back on, hair still damp from the ocean. His chest rises too fast, fists clenched at his sides so tightly his knuckles have gone pale. And there’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Not even at the dance.
Jacob rises slowly, like he has all the time in the world. His hand slowly drags off my knee as he stands, in a way that sends something cold crawling up my spine.
“Well,” he says, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Look who decided to show up.”
Ryan’s eyes stay fixed on Jacob. There’s masculinity written all across his face as he tilts his head. “Move. Now.”
Jacob lets out a quiet laugh. “We’re just talking.”
“Jacob, stop,” I say quickly, although it barely comes out. But Jacob doesn’t even look at me. His eyes stay locked on Ryan.
“Isn’t that what people do after they break up?” he says lightly. “Talk about how fake everything was?”
Ryan’s gaze snaps to mine. Confusion flashes across his face so suddenly it almost hurts to see—like he thinks I told him. About the deal. Aboutus.
“Ryan…” I say softly, my voice barely steady, hoping he hears everything I can’t say out loud.
For a second, he doesn’t move. Like he’s forcing himself to think clearly. Then his eyes shift back to Jacob.
“Just get the fuck out of here,” he says quietly.
I feel that dangerous shift settle into the air between them as Jacob notices the look between us, and his smile only widens.
“Oh, come on,” he says. “You can’t tell me you actually believed any of that. The cute dates. The hand-holding. The whole perfect-girlfriend act.”
Ryan’s fists clench tighter at his sides, knuckles paling.
Jacob huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Aww what? You actually fell for it? You really believed this bitch wanted you?”
“Don’t you dare call her that,” Ryan interrupts, so firmly it’s almost worse than yelling.
“Face it,” Jacob adds, voice softer now. “She was just passing time. Little fake romance to make me jealous.”
He tilts his head, studying Ryan. “Because at the end of the day…” he continues, a smirk pulling at his mouth, “she wants me.”
A sharp, humourless breath leaves Ryan, almost a laugh. “She doesn’t fucking want you.”
Jacob’s smile widens.
“Oh, really?” he says lightly. “Could’ve fooled me. I can definitely recall her moaning that into my ear.”
Ryan goes completely still. He looks livid. His jaw tightens so hard it looks painful.
“Jacob, shut up,” I say, but he isn’t listening. He’s watching Ryan. He’s enjoying every reaction he can get out of him, and he keeps pushing. But Ryan doesn’t move, or blink. Doesn’t even seem to fucking breathe.
I look at him, panic rising fast and sharp in my chest. For half a second, his eyes flick to mine. And what I see there isn’t just anger. It’s hurt. Deep and barely held together. Jacob sees it too—and goes in for the kill.
“Didn’t she tell you?” he asks, voice almost curious. “How it wasn’t real?”
My breath catches. “Stop.”
Jacob tilts his head slightly, still watching Ryan. “She was just sitting with me and talking about how fake it all—”
Ryan’s fist slams into his jaw before he can finish. The sound cracks through the night—sharp, violent—loud enough to turn heads all around the fire as Jacob’s body whips sideways and crashes hard into the sand.
My breath lodges in my throat.
