And freeze.
“Steven?”
His face is as familiar as it is unwelcome. Blond hair gelled too perfectly, smirk crooked in that way that used to charm me. Now it just turns my stomach.
“What are you doing here?”
His gaze drags over me, lingering on the exposed curve of my shoulder.
“Damn, Nya. Always had those good tits,” he says with a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You should have shown them to me, maybe I would have pity-fucked you.”
I step back. “You need to leave. NOW!”
He shoves the door open farther. “Not before we talk.”
“You have nothing to say that I want to hear.”
Steven saunters in like he owns the place, eyes sweeping over the room before landing back on me.
“Jessica’s in a mood,” he says. “You really pissed her off.”
I cross my arms. “Good.”
“She’s crying. Screaming. Throwing shit.” He chuckles. “And it’s all because of you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “If she’s that fragile, maybe don’t build your self-worth around someone else’s man.”
Steven’s jaw tics. “You always thought you were better than her. Playing sweet. Acting innocent.”
“Iambetter than her,” I snap. “And definitely better than you.”
His smirk falters. “You think the biker wants you? You really believe he sees anything but an easy lay? You’re not his type, Nya. You’re the warm-up act.”
“Get out.”
“He’ll get bored. They all do. You know why I asked you out in the first place? It wasn’t for your personality. Or your curves.” His lip curls. “It was because I knew Jess would want whatever you had. I wantedher, and the fastest way to get her was through you.”
The words slice. Sharp and cruel.
I flinch. He sees it. Smiles like he’s proud.
“You’re nothing, Nya. A stepping stone. A joke.”
But I don’t cry. Not this time.
“You and Jessica deserve each other,” I say evenly. “She’s petty and cruel. You’re pathetic. I hope you make each other miserable.”
His expression darkens. “You little—”
He raises his hand.
And then—
The door slams open.
Ghost is there.
Big. Furious.Dangerous.
