5
A few days later, I was still at the library at four in the afternoon.
My neck hurt.
My shoulders were stiff.
I was stretching in my chair when I looked up and saw Ryan sitting in the front row of the study room, smiling at me like he’d been there long enough to witness my entire academic breakdown.
When our eyes met, he stood and walked over.
“Finally tired, top student?”
Then he clicked his tongue.
“I swear, from the time we were kids until now, I’ve never met anyone who loves studying more than you.”
He tossed a bottle of milk onto my desk.
“Hydrate.”
I stared at it.
Then the memory came back.
The night he drove me home from the mall.
The second I got in his car, I’d completely fallen apart.
At first I was just crying quietly.
Then I curled into myself and couldn’t stop.
My face buried in my knees. My breathing wrecked. Ugly, gasping sobs.
Ryan—who always had something sarcastic to say—didn’t say a single word that night.
Not one.
He just drove.
And when he realized I wasn’t okay, he canceled whatever plans he had and took me straight back to my dorm.
Now, while I was still staring at the milk bottle, he casually snatched it back.
I frowned.
“Are you giving it to me or not?”
He smirked.
Twisted the cap open.
Then handed it back.
Like he was saying without words, See? You wronged me again.
I took it and changed the subject.
“Why are you here?”
“Dylan had a last-minute meeting. So he sent his future brother-in-law to take you shopping.”
He emphasized future brother-in-law so shamelessly that I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
A few days later was my mom’s birthday.
The first shopping trip had obviously been a disaster, so I still hadn’t bought her present.
Ryan coming with me for advice actually made sense.
We ended up walking around until eight that night.
Then Ryan demanded I buy him dinner as payment.
I refused.
Tried to slip away.
He caught me immediately and looped one arm around my neck from behind, locking me in place as I flailed at him in the middle of the mall.
People were passing by.
We were half wrestling, half making fools of ourselves.
And then I turned my head—
And saw Ashton and Sienna standing right there.
“Chloe,” Ashton said, his voice low. “What are you doing?”
We both froze.
For one stupid second, guilt flashed through me.
Guilt.
As if I were the one who’d betrayed him.
Ryan recovered first.
He dropped his arm from my neck and casually hooked it around my shoulders instead.
“Flirting,” he said lazily. “Can’t tell, man?”
Then he looked Ashton up and down.
“Actually, I guess maybe not. You’re older. Might not understand how young people do things.”
Ashton’s lips pressed into a thin line.
His face darkened immediately.
“You should listen to your brother more,” he told me. “Be careful when you choose a boyfriend.”
Sienna tugged on his sleeve and laughed.
“You sound just like Dylan. Total overprotective-brother mode.”
“Every time you see Chloe’s boyfriend, you get picky.”
I stepped away from Ryan then.
Not because I wanted Ashton closer.
Because I didn’t want to keep standing in a relationship built on that fake little-sister role Ashton kept hiding behind.
I looked at him.
Calm. Detached.
“Before, I called you Ashton because you were my brother’s best friend.”
“But you’re not actually my brother.”
“So my business really isn’t yours.”
I paused, then added, “And that way your girlfriend won’t misunderstand either.”
His face got even worse.
He reached toward my wrist.
I stepped back so fast it looked like I’d seen fire.
“Ashton.”
My tone changed sharply enough that Sienna flinched.
Instinctively, she moved closer to him.
Ashton’s gaze softened right away as he patted her arm.
I looked away.
A bitter laugh left him.
“So you really mean it? You don’t want me involved in your life anymore?”
I nodded.
Carefully. Clearly.
“My life has nothing to do with you.”
“That thing between us—the thing that was never allowed into daylight—it should’ve ended properly a long time ago.”
“Whether as a boyfriend or a fake brother…”
“I don’t need you anymore, Ashton.”
He inhaled sharply.
Then, to my surprise, he smiled.
Not because he was okay.
The opposite.
The kind of smile people give when they’re angry enough to stop pretending.
“Chloe Barrett,” he said. “You’re impressive.”
Ryan slid between us before Ashton could say anything else.
“Alright, enough of that.”
He grabbed my arm.
“We’re leaving. I’m starving.”
We turned and walked away.
I didn’t look back.
But I could feel it.
Their eyes following us.
All the way down the corridor.
At the restaurant, Ryan didn’t touch his food right away.
He just watched me.
Like he was waiting for something.
Finally he said, “So when exactly are you planning to give your fake boyfriend an official title?”
His careless grin annoyed me so much I stabbed my steak harder than necessary.
He laughed and slid his plate over.
“Here. I already cut mine.”
I stared at it.
A weird blur of memory hit me.
Because Ashton used to do that too.
He’d cut my steak. Listen to my stories. Smile into his glass while I babbled about school or professors or random campus drama.
Back then, those tiny acts had felt intimate.
Now I was realizing that cutting up someone’s food didn’t actually make you a soulmate.
Ryan was smart in a very different way.
He never pushed too hard.
He always seemed to know exactly how much to joke, how much to back off, when to distract me, when to let me breathe.
I looked down at the dishes on the table.
Every single one was something I liked.
And that milk from the library—
It was from a weird imported brand I loved.
Hardly anyone knew that.
Not unless they paid ridiculous attention.
Ryan had apparently been paying attention for a long time.
I was so distracted that when he flicked my forehead lightly with one finger, I actually jumped.
“Still spacing out?”
I snapped back and took a huge bite of steak.
Then he asked it.
So casually it almost didn’t register.
“Does your heart still hurt as much?”
My hand stopped.
His expression stayed neutral.
As if he were just asking whether I wanted more water.
Then he said, “You dated Ashton, didn’t you?”
“And you just broke up.”
It sounded like a question.
But his tone said he already knew.
I didn’t answer.
His eyes widened just a little.
“He cheated on you while you were together?”
I stared at him.
My relationship with Ashton had been secret.
No one knew.
Not even Dylan.
Dylan only knew I liked Ashton.
But Ryan?
Ryan had guessed everything.
He suddenly stood up.
I blinked.
“What are you doing?”
His voice dropped.
“He probably hasn’t gone far.”
“I didn’t beat him up earlier, and now I’m regretting that.”
Despite myself, I almost laughed.
So I grabbed his sleeve and dragged him back down into the chair.
“It’s over,” I said quietly. “I don’t want anything else tying me to him.”
Ryan stared at me for a few seconds.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He sat back again.
Then, just when I thought the conversation was finally over, he dropped another bomb.
“Then can I chase you now?”
My head jerked up.
“Ryan, have you lost your mind?”
He shook his head.
“I’m very sane.”
“Even if I’m just your rebound, I’m okay with that.”
“Chloe, I’m serious. Think about it.”
My brain went blank.
Ryan and me?
We’d spent half our childhood annoying each other.
He was loud. Reckless. Trouble.
I was the obedient one. The good one.
We were the definition of incompatible.
But he kept going, and this time there was no teasing in his face at all.
“I can’t wait anymore.”
“You’re the type who doesn’t date casually. If you love someone, you love them all the way.”
“I don’t know if I’ll get another chance if I miss this one.”
He looked straight at me.
His voice was low. Steady.
“I realized I can’t stand seeing you with another man.”
My heart stuttered.
Not because I was in love with him.
Not yet.
But because for the first time in a long time, someone was standing in front of me with nothing hidden.
No secrets.
No shadows.
No excuses.
Just honesty.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.