“Chad, don’t,” Mason says, stepping forward as if he can sense what’s about to happen, but it’s too late.
“Forget it,” Chad mutters, his eyes darting between the three of us, too much emotion flickering in them to sort out. “This was a mistake.”
Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and bolts, disappearing through the bar’s back door before any of us can react.
“Chad!” Lakelyn calls after him, but he’s already gone. She doesn’t hesitate, her feet moving before her mind can catch up, and she rushes after him, leaving me and Mason standing there in the wreckage of what just happened.
I clench my fists at my sides, everything settling in my chest like a stone. The truth was finally out there, and Chad did what Chad always does—runs.
I watch Lakelyn dart through the back door after Chad, her desperation echoing in the empty space he’s left behind. My body tenses, fists still clenched at my sides as I struggle to shake off the mess of emotions swirling inside me.
This wasn’t the first time Chad ran. Hell, it’s all he’s ever done when things get complicated. He bolts, leaving wreckage in his wake, like none of it matters. But this… this time, I can’t just let it go.
Memories hit me like a gut punch—the last time I watched Chad disappear like this, years ago. Back then, I thought it was over between us for good, that we were too different, too messy to ever work. But it wasn’t just about us.
I can still picture the night it happened, as clearly as if it were yesterday.
I’d waited. I had no choice. My dad had forbidden me from seeking Chad out after pulling me away from him during his heat, hissing in my ear about how I needed to keep my head on straight, how messing with someone like Chad was a disaster waiting to happen. His words lingered, but so did the memory of Chad in my arms, the feel of him against me, his sweet and tangy scent clinging to my skin like a phantom.
So I waited. I spent every waking moment at the club, hoping he’d show up, trying to shove the desperation down. It was pathetic, probably, but I didn’t care. I needed to see him. To figure out what the hell that kiss had meant, if anything.
And then, like I’d summoned him just by thinking about him, he strolled in.
Chad moved like life was one big game, like nothing could touch him. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his hair perfectly styled—too perfectly. He was wearing a crisp polo shirt, and his slacks were so tailored they looked painted on. He had this practiced, pouty smile on his lips, like a shield. But the second his eyes landed on me, I saw it—just the tiniest crack in his armor. A flicker of something real, something raw.
It was enough.
I pushed off the bar and walked straight toward him, not caring how it looked. My father’s warning echoed in the back of my mind, reminding me of my place. ‘The help never ends up with the clientele.’ He owned the place, sure, but we were still considered the help. We weren’t meant to mix with guys like Chad—the rich ones, the untouchables. But I’d stopped caring about that a long time ago.
He was my friend. Hopefully more than a friend now.
I reached him, and for a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. His eyes flicked away, scanning the roomlike he was looking for an escape route, like I was the last person he wanted to see.
"Chad," I said, my voice low, steady, even though my heart was pounding in my chest. "We need to talk."
He shrugged, the nonchalant mask slipping back into place. "What about?"
I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to grab him, to shake him, to make him drop the act. "You know what about. Your heat—what happened between us. We can’t just pretend like it didn’t?—"
"I’m not talking about that." His voice was cool, clipped, as if the subject wasn’t even worth acknowledging. He didn’t even look at me, just kept his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder.
I took a step closer, lowering my voice. "You felt it. I know you did."
He laughed, but it was hollow, forced. "It’s just biology messing with our heads." His eyes finally flicked back to mine, but they were hard, distant. "You know as well as I do that none of this is real."
I stared at him, trying to process the words, but they didn’t match the Chad I’d held in my arms just days ago. The Chad who had kissed me like he needed me to breathe.
"You don’t believe that," I said quietly, my voice edged with frustration. "I know you don’t."
He shrugged again, and this time, he met my eyes full-on, but there was something cold in them now. "Believe what you want, Dean. But I’m fine. I don’t need some alpha swooping in and trying to save me because we got tangled up in a moment. It was just a heat. It’s over."
I felt my stomach drop, but I refused to back down. "That’s bullshit, Chad, and you know it."
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice growing even more detached. "I think maybe you’re reading too much into it. I was in heat. You were just… there. No need to play knight and shining alpha."
I recoiled, the sting of his words sharper than I’d expected. "So that’s it? I was just a convenient body for you? Nothing else?"
He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to?—"
