Page 6

Ugh… Does he think I’m hooking up with Wylder?

Asshole, but whatever. I don’t care about that right now. All I want to do is get Zayla so I can go home.

I start up the stairs and Wylder follows behind me. At the top is a narrow hallway lined with doors, all of which are closed. My bet is people are having sex behind those doors so throwing them all open seems like a bad option.

I glance over my shoulder at Wylder. “Do you know which room is Ollie’s?”

His gaze is downward but swiftly rises to my face. “Yeah, but I’m not sure you want to go in there.”

“Why? If that’s where Zayla went?” I point out with heavy suspicion.

What’s this guy’s game here?

“I doubt it, but if she did…” He massages the back of his neck, not finishing what he was going to say.

I already know, though, what he’s tiptoeing around. I caught on to that when Brooks wouldn’t let Zayla up the stairs.

I shake my head. “Why can some guys be such assholes? I mean, I get it. If you don’t want to be with someone, that’s fine. But just fucking tell them that instead of stringing them along.” I wander forward, debating what to do next.

“I completely agree with you,” he says, trailing after me.

I snort a laugh. “Sure you do.”

“What does that mean? Or are you stereotyping me again?”

Dammit. “No, I’m not.”

“Liar.”

“Ditzy quarterback.”

A brief pause and then a laugh slips from his lips.

“Are you always this feisty?” he says through his laughter.

“No, I’m usually worse.” I pause as I hear Zayla start to shout.

And not from inside one of these bedrooms, but…

My gaze snaps to Wylder. “Is that coming from outside?”

A crease is between his brows as he looks at the shut doors then back at the stairway. “I think so, but⁠—”

“Fuck you, you whore!” Zayla is so loud she can be heard over the music.

Wylder and I trade a look and then we both bolt for the stairway. He lets me go first and I take the steps two at a time. When I reach the bottom, the house is not nearly as crowded now and the music has been turned down. I rush across the kitchen and into the living room.

“You stupid coward!” Zayla’s voice echoes from outside. “You used me! You know you did!”

My gaze darts to the open front door that’s being blocked by several people. I shove my way through them and rush outside where an even bigger clusterfuck of people have migrated to. I keep moving, tracking Zayla’s voice, and when I finally find her, my stomach plummets.

She’s standing in the middle of this pathetic crowd of bystanders and tears are streaming down her face as she stares at Ollie, almost with a helpless look on her face, as if she’s begging him to make her stop. Ollie makes no effort to do anything other than look at her with a hint of pity in his eyes. He’s also shirtless and I’m fairly certain a hickey is starting to bloom on his neck.

I may not have seen what led up to this, but by the looks of him, I can come up with my own assessment.

“I didn’t use you, Zay.” He scratches at the back of his neck while peering around at the crowd, his discomfort completely evident. “I’ve always been upfront with you about what this is.” He gestures between them. “You should’ve never come up to that room.”

More tears spill from Zayla’s eyes and she wraps her arms around herself. She has twigs in her hair and dirt on her cheeks, but I have no idea why.