“Don’t. Touch. Me,” I hiss through gritted teeth before dropping his hand after hearing his fingers crack. “I mean it, motherfucker.”
As much as I’d love to see him cry out in pain, instead, he simply smirks, and that only pisses me off more.
“Fuck, I forgot how feisty you can be,” he says grossly. “I always found that so fucking hot. I swear you rode my cock best when you were mad.”
I feel like I could puke from even imagining having sex with this vile human again, and I keep my eyes forward. I know him enough to know if I start walking, he’ll just follow me, which will only cause a scene. Something I’d love to avoid at all costs.
“What do you want, Rowan?” I sigh.
“Well, I’m not that bad of a guy, Saylor.”
He leans his shoulder closer to mine, and I seriously consider barfing on his lap. The thought alone makes me giddy, to be honest.
“And if you’re so pissed off at me for taking that video, why aren’t you mad at the fuckers who watched it?” He pauses, and my heart stops beating—I’m scared of what will come out of his mouth next. “I mean, Christ, even Cambridge came in all high and mighty the morning after Coach kicked me off the team when he didn’t have a fucking skate to stand on. Fucker had watched and loved the video, just like Talmage and the others did.”
Out of all the things he could have said, those are words I never wanted to hear. It’s the one thing that will make me never look at Ryder the same. Not because of what he did, but because he is the second person in a short period of time who made me truly believe I could trust him. Now, I know he had seen me having sex with another man and probably just wanted his turn with me. Which means our story started on a lie—he knew the full extent of what Rowan had done and never said a word—and there’s no coming back from that.
I’ve fallen for Ryder, and now … I’ve learned that, just like Rowan, he isn’t at all who I thought he was. Whoanyonethinks he is.
“He must have acted all tough with me because of how badly he wanted to fuck you, huh?” He chuckles sickly. “Yeah, that must be it.”
“Shut the fuck up, Rowan. He doesn’t want to fuck me; hedidfuck me.” My vision is fuzzy, and my skin prickles from a heat rash that’s fueled by red-hot anger. “You’re just mad because I fucked your friend.” I spew the words, looking him in the eye. “And I have to tell you, Ro, his dick is much bigger than yours. And, fucking right, he can use it. Unlikesomepeople.”
I hate to give Ryder an ounce of credit right now. He doesn’t deserve it, and if he were here, I certainly wouldn’t be rattling this off. He’s not here though, and I know what a jealous, possessive man Rowan is. He just happily dropped a bomb onme after already ruining my life not long ago. So, do I want to rub it in his face that I had sex with someone who was once a friend of his? Hell yes, I do.
“Fuck you, Saylor,” he hisses through gritted teeth. He’s mad, and his eyes darken to an almost-black shade. “And while that’s great and all, the only reason he started fucking you was because he’d watched that recording and seen just how good you took cock and how fucking horny you were to be fucked.” A sick smirk stretches across his face, proving just how fucked up of a human he truly is. “That’s theonlyreason why Cambridge came to you.” He tsks me. “Guys like Ryder and me? We’re professional athletes. We can have any woman we want—as many as we want each night.” He rakes his eyes up and down my body deliberately. “Do you really think he’d actually be interested in anything else?”
“Fuck you, Rowan.”
“I have time before my flight, baby girl. I’d love for you to fuck me,” he taunts. “It’s been a while since I’ve been fucked properly, to be honest.”
I can’t sit here anymore, and I no longer give a shit if he causes a scene. So, pushing to my feet, I walk away from him in hopes that he’ll shut the hell up before I have no choice but to punch him. Of course, him being him, he fucking follows me. That’s how Rowan is—always has to get the last word in.
So, I do what I have to do in an airport with a ton of security guards. I simply head toward one and smile, knowing Rowan is trailing close behind me. He may be semi-disguised with his hood up, but the second I cause a scene, telling a guard he’s harassing me, all while also yelling out his name, I know it’ll be enough to put him all over social media tomorrow. I’m prepared to do it too. This motherfucker has taken and taken from me. I want to take something back.
“Excuse me,” I say to a security guard.
“Are you fucking serious? You’re going to flag down a security guard to what, protect you?” he yaps from behind me. “I’m just fucking talking to you, you fucking psycho.”
Lucky for me, he quickly turns around and walks the other way.
“Everything okay, ma’am?” the security guard says, stepping closer.
I nod. “Yeah, sorry. Just a misunderstanding.” I swallow thickly before giving him a tiny smile and heading toward my terminal.
Everything that Rowan just told me comes to the forefront of my brain, and to be honest, I just want out of this city and farther away from Maine too.
But as I’m about to pass a restroom, I walk inside and rush into a stall. And then … I cry. I cry so hard that I can’t breathe. I cry so hard that the lashes I applied for this trip fall off. So hard that my stomach feels like it’s being ripped out.
I cry because … I’ve done it again. I fell in love with someone who turned out to be a piece of shit. Only, this time, I had promised myself this wasn’t going to happen. And yet here I am.
Coach gives his speech, and everyone claps before he makes his way off the stage. Some of the Bay Sharks were asked to come to this event. An event to raise money for the program we’ve been running, where kids can come out and work with a few of the Bay Sharks once a month, but now, we’re expanding it across Maine so that more kids can learn from some of the state’s best hockey trainers and coaches.
This is a great thing the team is doing, and I’m all for charity. I love being able to support a good cause like this one, but, fuck … I just want to leave. It’s day three of Saylor ignoring me with absolutely no warning, and I don’t understand what’s going on. I know she’s okay because she posted a story on Instagram, but when I replied to it, in hopes of her telling me what the fuck happened between our time in New York to when she returned to South Carolina, she never opened the message. We basically agreed to give this thing a try, and now, she won’t answer my messages or return my calls.
She didn’t even open my message on Instagram. Dead fucking giveaway that something isn’t right.
Whatever I did, I want to make it right. I just have no idea what it could be when everything seemed so good with us when I left New York to head back to Maine.