He grabbed for the first thing in arm’s reach, anything to prove he wasn’t the one left behind and built himself another story—that she’d abandoned him.
Because somehow that hurt less than the truth—that Cassie had always been meant for more than Clifton.And she sure as shit had been meant for more than him.
Christ.He hadn’t even realized how tight he’d been clinging to that bullshit…until she ripped it right out of his hands.
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.“Didn’t know you’d come home.”
But even as the words left him, he knew they didn’t matter.
She’d come back to him.
But he’d already been gone.
Chapter Seventeen
CassiestoodatMargie’skitchen counter, coffee going cold in her hand, staring at her phone.The booking page was still open—a one-way ticket to New York, leaving tomorrow at 3:15.All she had to do was press confirm.
But her finger only hovered, useless, until the screen dimmed to black.
Blowing out a breath, she poured herself a fresh mug and dropped into a chair facing the window.Outside, the ridge sat quiet under a washed-out sky, a hazy summer afternoon that couldn’t decide whether it wanted to burn into sunshine or split into storm.The air clung thick and humid, like even the weather was holding its breath, waiting to see which way things broke.
Her eyes squeezed shut.She already knew which way she’d broken.
Her whole damn body kept reminding her—every stretch of sore muscle, every scrape of bruised skin, and the ache between her thighs that refused to shut up and mind its business.
God-fucking-dammit.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it.About Nash.About the hours they’d spent devouring each other.About that brutally honest confession she hadn’t even realized she still needed.
Because once it was out—once he finally admitted everything—something in her had unlatched.Something she hadn’t even known was clenched just…released.And everything else—the shouting, the fury, the spite—fell away with it.
So she’d turned around and walked out.
And kept walking—down Nash’s drive and onto the road, past the bend where the kudzu had swallowed the guardrail and the shoulder dipped, sliding straight into the creek below.She climbed down, mud on her hands, rocks slipping under her feet, following the creek bed in the dark, then hauling herself up the ridge behind Margie’s place.
By the time she reached the porch, it was nearly morning.She’d tiptoed inside, peeled off her filthy clothes, and collapsed into bed, sinking straight into a heavy, dreamless sleep she didn’t claw her way out of until well past noon.
Her gaze slid back to her phone.Just because she wasn’t angry anymore didn’t mean she was okay.She absolutely was not okay.
With a low curse, she swiped out of the airline app and tapped Jordan’s name.She pictured her friend tucked into a café corner, laptop open, empty mugs and dishes scattered across the table, her don’t-fuck-with-me face scaring off anyone dumb enough to interrupt.
Her thumb hovered between Message and FaceTime.A text wasn’t enough.A video call felt like too much.She was too raw for either—but her finger betrayed her anyway.
Her own reflection flashed up on the screen—messy hair, bare face, eyes shadowed with exhaustion.She almost hung up before Jordan’s face filled the frame: bleached pixie perfectly mussed, silver glinting from her nose and lip, the muted bustle of a café blurring behind her.
“Hey, babydoll,” she said, her expression soft—the kind of soft her usually sharp-tongued friend only reserved for only a very small handful of people.“How’re you holding up?”
Cassie shrugged.“I’m—ugh.”Slouching in her chair, she dragged a hand over her face.“I don’t know.”
Jordan nodded.“Totally normal.”Then her eyes narrowed.“Wait.Is that a hickey?”
“No,” she ground out.“It’s absolutely not a hickey, because I absolutely have not spent the last twenty-four hours getting dicked down to the point where I can barely walk.”
Jordan’s brows shot up.“Oh.So this is the post-walk of shame call.Okay—give me a second to get my faces straight.”
She visibly rearranged her expression, comically cycling from concern to judgment before settling on a pointed stare.
“All right.How ugly was he, and how big was his dick?Because you know those cancel each other out.So whatever shame you’re feeling, dial it down a notch for every inch he had…”
