Page 10 of Tag

Only she called me that—Rye. It started when we were kids, somewhere between breaking out of the baby gate our parents tried and failed to contain us behind, and kindergarten. It was also one of her first words. Something about the damn sandwiches had her hooked. She ate them religiously.

Every. Day.

Rye bread, almond butter, and honey with nothing else.

Her mom used to pack them until she was old enough to start doing it herself, and once she did, she never stopped. She swore it was the perfect combo. I thought the bread tasted like dirt and misery, but I ate every bite when she handed me one, lathered it in more honey, and forced it down simply because she made it. One year, she was so obsessed with that goddamn carb that she dressed as a bottle of honey for Halloween, made me go as a fucking slice of bread so we matched. Cade took one for the team and went as another piece to complete our sandwich.

Thank fuck she outgrew that phase shortly after. Our parents never let us forget it, though. They each had the framed photo evidence hanging on a wall--proudly. The nickname remained, long after I’d grown to hate when people shortened my name. She was the only exception. She could call me anything as long as she kept calling.

If only that small comfort was enough to untie the knot twisting in my gut, knowing she was with that fun-sized piece of shit. Adding salt to the wound, she wasn’t wearing her half of our heart necklace. When I touched her neck, my fingers instinctively brushed the bare skin where that chain should’ve been.

To anyone else, it might’ve seemed small and insignificant, but I liked knowing my name was sitting above her heartbeat like hers did mine.

I typed back quickly, not ready to let this drop.

You didn’t tell me, bye.

I watched as little dots appeared on the screen, waiting for her response.

Sassy

Sorry, we went hunting for food. At least you had a super pretty girl waiting in my place. ??

I reread the text twice.

Then again.

My thumbs hovered over the screen, but I didn’t type anything yet. If I said what I really wanted to say, I wouldn’t be able to take it back. I hadn’t waited this long to fuck everything up because I let emotions get the best of me.

I didn’t want pretty.

I wanted her, and she was so much more than that.

She was also deflecting again as if that would change anything. This was the fourth time in two weeks she’d made a playful, underhanded reference to my girlfriend. I wasn’t sure she even realized she was doing it. We both knew this entire situation was the result of an epic fuck-up and shouldn’t have happened. She panicked and got with Ashton Bitch-Ass Hayes. I started ‘dating’ Brooke, my airheaded smokescreen, who was the epitome oflive, laugh, lovewith a side of peace and positivity wrapped in curated Instagram captions. In other words, not my fucking type.

When she chose an illusion of comfort, I chose to do something that would force her to confront her true feelings.

We both pretended it didn’t hurt like hell.

I saw it in the way her eyes lingered a moment too long. Felt it in the tremor of her touch, the way she stopped herself from holding onto me, forcing distance when every inch of her wanted to come closer. She wassogoddamn close to breaking.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket, catching Brooke’s oblivious smile. She snapped her seatbelt into place, claiming the passenger seat like she always did. Cade was in the backseat, immersed in his phone. He leaned forward after a minute, resting his elbows between the seats.

“Rook and Nick are already there.”

I nodded to let him know I heard what he said. The craftsman Cade, Nick, and I shared was a few blocks over from where Sanjana and her friends lived, and a quick drive from Crowsfell. Our families liked the setup. They felt better knowing she wasn’t too far from me. If I had my way, she’d be under the same roof and in my bed where she belonged. Since we weren’t there yet, I had to settle for watching over her from afar like I always had. It was instinctual at this point. Nobody else was stepping into that role.

I shot a glance into the rearview mirror, catching Cade scrolling through his phone again, probably texting Xander. There was definitely something going on there. They’d been hanging out a lot more, and I’d seen the way Cade’s attention shifted when Xander was around. My brother was definitely interested. It was only a matter of time before he came to me so we could talk about it. The streets blurred past, my attention split between the road and the tangled mess I'd been juggling for months.

As I turned onto our street, I spotted Xander’s M4 already behind Rook’s lowrider. Nick’s restored Mustang was in the driveway, pulled to the right so that I could fit my truck. I parked, cutting the engine just as Brooke unbuckled and hopped out. My phone buzzed, and I tugged it back out, expecting to seeanother text from Sanj or one of the guys from the team. Instead, a number I didn’t have saved lit up the screen.

1021

You looked good tonight, Golden Boy.

What the fuck?

I huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. Cute.Real fucking original. Ignoring the message for now, I stepped out of the truck and made my way to where Brooke was waiting for me. My brother had already gone inside, and as we walked through the foyer, the low hum of conversation spilled into the entry hall from the living room. I walked a little further and spotted Nick sprawling across one end of the couch, phone in hand. The usual pre-food debate was already in full swing. He gave me a lazy chin lift before addressing the others.

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