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“What? What is he saying?” I rip the phone out of Oliver’s hand, a thick knot lodging itself in my throat.
The floor sways beneath me as I read the text Zayden just sent Oliver.
It was easier than I thought. She ate up every fucking word I said. Too bad she wasn’t a better lay.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes as my stomach turns over on itself.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Would he?
“I told you.” Oliver snags his phone out of my hand, locking the screen before shoving it back into his pocket.
“Why?” I croak out. “Why would he do that? Why would he pretend?” I’m still clinging to the possibility that Oliver is lying, but my grip is slipping with every second that passes.
“Because that’s who he is. Zayden is out for only one person. Himself. It’s all about what he stands to gain. And in this case, he got laid, helped his best friend out, and earned himself an easy thousand bucks. And thanks to your eagerness to jump on his dick, it only took him a couple weeks to accomplish it all.”
“I don’t believe you.” My voice shakes as I fight the tears threatening to spill.
“No? Why don’t you call him then? See what he has to say?”
“Fine. I will.” I pull my phone out of the front pocket of my hoodie and quickly pull up Zayden’s number. It only rings once before it goes to voicemail.
My heart drops.
Hitting his number again, the same thing happens. One ring and then voicemail.
“Not answering your calls I see?” Oliver chuckles. “Wonder why that is. Oh wait.” He taps the side of his head. “I know why. Because he got what he was after and now he’s done with you. Poor, Rylee.” He pouts out his bottom lip dramatically.
I want to lash out. I want to scream. I want to lunge at Oliver and punch him over and over until he feels even an ounce of the pain that’s tearing through me right now—like a wild animal trying to claw its way from the inside out.
I want to tell him how much I hate him. How much I hate Zayden. How much I wish I had never met either of them. But the words get clogged somewhere in my throat and never make their way to the surface.
Without even realizing what I’m doing, I turn, snagging my car keys off the counter as I head for the front door. I throw it open, leaving it flapping in the wind as I take the front porch steps two at a time.
I don’t care that it’s thirty degrees outside and that I’m in shorts with no shoes. I don’t care that I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing. All I know is that I have to get away from here. I have to get away from this house, from Oliver, from Zayden, from everything.
And I have to do it right now.
ZAYDEN
“I’M HEADED OUT, BENNY!” I call to the boss man, pulling my keys from my pocket as I head out of the bay. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Later,” he yells without removing his head from the Jeep he’s working on.
Benny always keeps the shop open until eight on Friday and Saturdays for people who work and need to drop off their cars for the weekend.
I reach toward my back pocket when I remember I don’t have my phone with me. I was supposed to call Rylee when I got off work, but it looks like I’ll be stopping by her house instead since I must have left my phone there last night when I left. You’ll not hear a lick of complaints from me though.
Memories of last night filter through my head, and I’m forced to adjust my hardening dick as I climb into my truck. I’ve had numerous girls since the first time I had sex at fourteen, but not a single one of them felt as good as Rylee did last night. She, as girly as it sounds, rocked my fucking world.
I hated leaving her after, but my dad needed me at home to watch Danielle. Besides, I have many, many plans of repeats. Just as I feared, once I had Rylee, and knew what she felt like from the inside, it’s going to be a very long time before I’ve gotten my fill. If I ever get my fill.
I pull up to the curb in front of her house a few minutes later. Disappointment hits when I don’t see her car in the driveway. Last I heard, we were supposed to see each other when I got off work. Of course, she had no way of getting in touch with me if something came up.
There’s a black Beemer in the driveway, and I know it’s not Oliver’s or his dad’s, so it must be Rylee’s mom’s. I haven’t met her mother yet, but it looks like I’m going to now.
I rap my knuckles against the door and wait for it to open. The woman before me is an exact replica of Rylee. While her looks are more mature, she doesn’t look old enough to be Rylee’s mom, maybe an older sister.
