"I thought I'd surprise you," Justin continues. "Maybe take you to dinner? You must be hungry after class."
Before I can answer, Ramsey pushes off the bike andsaunters over, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. "Actually, star, I already made dinner. It's waiting at home." His eyes flick to Justin, a challenge in their blue depths. "You know, at our place."
Justin turns, giving Ramsey a once-over. "I think I can take it from here, man. I'd like to spend some time with my girlfriend."
The word 'girlfriend' makes Ramsey's jaw tighten, a muscle jumping beneath his skin. The smile never leaves his face, but his eyes go cold in a way that sends a shiver down my spine. It’s like a switch has been flipped. I want to groan because there’s no way this ends well for any of us.
"Is that right?" Ramsey says, tilting his head slightly. "Reese, you have a choice to make." Ramsey's voice cuts through the tension like a knife. "Dinner with the boyfriend you've been dodging all week, or home with me."
Fuck me sideways. I hate being put on the spot like this. My eyes dart between them—Justin's expectant face and Ramsey's challenging smirk.
"I, uh..." I stutter, shifting my dance bag higher on my shoulder. "Rams, you didn't tell me you were making dinner tonight."
"Wanted it to be a surprise." His eyes never leave mine. "Made your favorite. Chicken alfredo with those little broccoli bits you like."
"I don't..." I start before Justin cuts me off.
“Seriously? Again with this shit?"
"What shit?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"This." Justin gestures between Ramsey and me. "Every fucking time I try to make plans with you, he shows up withsome emergency or favor or whatever the fuck, and you drop everything for him."
"That's not true," I protest, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears.
“Yes, it is.” I cut a look to Ramsey, glowering at him but he just mouthsyou’re adorable like an angry kittenand I think if I had the strength I’d choke him out right now for that comment.
"And I'm supposedly your boyfriend," Justin snaps. "Though honestly, I'm starting to wonder why you're even with me when you're clearly riding Blackwood's dick so much."
The words hit me like a slap across the face and I almost rear back. My mouth falls open, but before I can form a response, Ramsey moves. He's in Justin's face so fast I barely register him crossing the space between them.
"Say that again," Ramsey growls, his voice so low I can barely hear it.
Justin's face goes from angry red to ghost white in seconds. Ramsey leans closer, whispering something I can't catch. Whatever it is, makes Justin take a stumbling step backward, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.
"I—I should go," Justin stammers, fumbling for his car keys. "We'll talk later, Reese."
He practically sprints to his car, yanking the door open and throwing himself inside. The engine roars to life, tires squealing as he peels out of the parking lot like the devil himself is on his tail.
I'm left standing there in the parking lot, my mouth hanging open as Justin's taillights disappear. For a second, Ican't even process what just happened. Did my boyfriend seriously just accuse me of fucking my best friend and then run away like Ramsey was going to murder him?
I whirl around to face Ramsey, who's still wearing that insufferable smirk like he just won some game I didn't know we were playing.
"What the actual fuck was that?" I snap, jabbing a finger into his chest. "What did you say to him?"
Ramsey shrugs, completely unfazed by my anger. "Nothing that wasn't true."
"Which was what, exactly?" I demand, poking him again, harder this time. His chest is like a brick wall under my finger, and it only pisses me off more.
"That if he ever speaks to you like that again, I'll peel his face off so thoroughly his own mother won't recognize him when she has to identify the body." He says this so casually, like he's commenting on the weather and not threatening death.
"Jesus Christ, Ramsey!" I throw my hands up. "You can't just threaten my boyfriend like that!"
"Is he really your boyfriend?" he observes, nodding toward where Justin's car had been.
"That's not—" I sputter, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "You don't get to decide that! You don't get to scare off every guy I date just because you think you know what's best for me!"
His smirk never falters, and I swear to God I want to slap it right off his stupidly handsome face. Instead, I poke him again, right in the center of his chest.
