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That’s all you have to say? ??????

The typing bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Then it reappeared again. I sat up straighter when his reply came through.

Rye????

Are you scared?

I can come and remind you who’s always been better at making you feel safe.

I nearly launched my damn phone across the room. Wisely, I aimed it at the couch cushions instead, where it bounced with a soft, unsatisfying thud beside me.

CHAPTER FOUR

SANJANA

I got a whopping three hours of sleep.

When I finally texted Ryder back, it was a full line of middle finger emojis. That was my version of a love letter when he was being a dick. Naturally, it earned me a reply two minutes later:

Rye????

Tell me how you really feel.

Or better yet, come show me.

You know where I sleep.

Yeah, he was definitely in a mood, but I preferred this to him riding around trying to commit a few felonies. I texted back something I knew would get under his skin--sue me.

Beside Brooke???

He didn’t respond right away, which meant he was either pissed, amused, or imagining things he shouldn’t be. I pictured him gripping his phone, doing that broody thing where he stared off into space like he was deciding whether or not to burn the world down. When his response came twenty minutes later, it wasn’t anything I could twist into something safe.

Rye????

Be ready when I stop holding back.

That was all.

A promise wrapped in a warning. It set off a back-and-forth war. By the time we finished launching digital attacks via GIFs, reels, and passive-aggressive commentary like mature, responsible adults, my alarm was practically going off, and I’d nearly suffocated myself trying to smother my laughter.

I used to think I was a morning person, mostly because I had those fond memories of when my beloved dictator, Roxxi, used to drag me out of bed before dawn had the decency to crack her ass. I’d since learned that being an early riser was a trait I no longer possessed. Not only did I hate being forced to wake up early, but I also couldn’t stand having to rush, which was exactly what I was doing.

It was all Ryder’s fault.

Mostly.

Being for real, I blamed the creepy dickhead who decided to give me a haunting pageant wave at one in the morning before skipping off into the shadows like a horror movie reject. I rushed out of Ashton’s building with my hair still damp and a chill clinging to my skin. My bag was slung over one shoulder, boots clicking against the pavement. I moved fast, weaving through half-asleep students with coffee I was tempted to steal, looking as miserable to be up as I felt. I wouldn’t have time to grab my beloved espresso this morning, and that was enough to make me have a small breakdown.

When I finally made it to the parking lot, I spotted Ashton leaning against his car, phone in hand, talking to someone. His jaw was tight, the crease between his brows deep enough to tell me it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. The second he saw me, an easy smile slid across his face, and without hesitation, he told the person on the other end,“I gotta go.”

“You didn’t have to end your call,” I said as I reached him.

“And not give you my undivided attention?” he shot back smoothly, like the argument he’d been in seconds ago had never happened. “You look good in that.”

I smiled, more out of habit than anything else, and climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind me. As I buckled up, I glanced down at what I was wearing. A cropped pink sweater, high-waisted black jeans, and my favorite blackankle boots. Not exactly groundbreaking, but comfortable and good enough to call for the compliment he had given me.

The drive to campus was calm. Morning sunlight filtered through the trees and gave our town a catalog-worthy look. I wasn’t skilled like Cloe with my photography skills, but the scenery was so pretty that I pulled up my camera to snap a quick moving photo. Afterward, I stared at the screen of my phone a little longer than necessary, trying to think of how to bring up everything from yesterday.

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