Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
JAKE
I watched her walk away.
Correction— they walked away. Rachel and Frankie. Like they were going off to scheme world domination or a takedown playlist or maybe just to get away from all the testosterone that had choked the patio into a silent standoff.
Probably the third one.
Didn’t matter.
What mattered was that he stayed.
Frenchy. Mathieu. Whatever the hell name he went by. Sitting there like he belonged. Like he hadn’t touched her. Kissed her. Been inside her .
I clenched my fist so hard my beer bottle cracked under the pressure.
No one seemed to notice. Not really. Coop was avoiding my eyes, probably hoping I’d cool down. Bubba was half-turned, pretending to look at the pool, but his attention kept flicking back to me like he could feel the fuse burning down. Archie… Archie didn’t say a word. Just watched.
That stung worse than I wanted to admit.
Because if he knew —if Archie knew the truth—he’d be on my side. No question. He’d throw that smug bastard out of his house so fast Frenchy would still be spinning by the time he landed on the sidewalk.
But Archie didn’t know. Nobody knew.
Except Frankie.
Me.
And him .
Goddamn it.
I slammed the rest of my beer and tossed the broken bottle into the recycling bin. It hit the edge and shattered louder than necessary, but nobody flinched. They all saw this coming.
Especially him.
I stalked across the patio.
"Jake—" Coop started.
"Not now," I snapped.
Frenchy stood as I approached, like he was preparing for a conversation. A calm one. A normal one. That made it worse. That made me livid .
He had no right to act like this was anything close to civil.
"You think you’re smooth, huh?" I said, low and dangerous.
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
Coop stepped in, his hand brushing my shoulder. “Let’s maybe not?—”
“Move,” I said without looking at him.
He didn’t. But he didn’t say anything else either.
Frenchy’s gaze sharpened, mouth tight but not surprised. “I think maybe you’ve had enough to drink.”
Oh, that was the wrong thing to say.
I shoved him.
It wasn’t a hard push. Not really. Just enough to break his balance, enough to tell him exactly where we stood. The pool crowd quieted around us, sharks sensing blood.
Coop grabbed my arm, tugging. “Jake, c’mon?—”
“I said move!” I snarled.
Bubba stepped in this time, wedging himself between us. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t tell me what I want.”
“Then let me remind you what happens if you do this.” Bubba’s voice dropped low, his eyes sharp. “You swing on a guest at Archie’s house, and you’re not just dealing with Frenchy. You’re dealing with Archie .”
My eyes darted over Bubba’s shoulder. Archie hadn’t moved. He hadn’t said a word.
But he was watching. Still and silent, like a storm cloud just waiting for thunder.
God. That hurt more than it should.
Frenchy straightened his shirt, shoulders square, voice steady. “If you want to talk, we can talk. But I won’t fight you.”
That was the moment I realized: he wasn’t scared of me. Not in the way I wanted him to be.
I didn’t want calm. I didn’t want understanding. I didn’t want this guy offering to talk like he was the damn victim.
I wanted him to regret it .
“I know what you did,” I said, voice like smoke.
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You think you can just come in here, charm everyone, touch her— fuck her—like she’s a vacation fling?” My voice dropped then cracked, rage boiling over. “You think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
His face went tight, controlled. “That’s between me and Frankie. Not you.”
“She’s not yours ,” I spat. “You don’t get to have her.”
Frenchy didn’t move. “Then neither do you.”
That was when I lunged.
Bubba caught me before I got more than half a step. Coop backed him up, grabbing my arms while I twisted, shouting, “Let me go! Let me go, dammit?—!”
Archie still didn’t move.
He just watched.
Watched while I fought everyone who wasn’t her. Watched while my control shredded into nothing. Watched while I lost the one thing I still thought I had— dignity .
“She loved me!” I half-yelled at Frenchy over Bubba’s shoulder. “She loved me first!”
Frenchy’s voice came quiet. “Maybe she did. But that doesn’t give you ownership.”
Coop flinched like that line hit him , too.
I stopped fighting.
Suddenly, I was so damn tired.
Bubba let go first. Coop second. Frenchy stayed rooted like he didn’t trust me not to go for it again, and honestly? Smart man.
I looked at him. This stranger who somehow knew her in ways I didn’t anymore. Who had pieces of her I used to guard with my life. And now?
Now he had her trust.
And I had my rage.
Cool. Great trade.
“I’m not done with you,” I said, voice dead even.
Frenchy nodded once. “I believe you.”
The silence between us stretched. Thick. Oily. Choking.
And then someone laughed.
Not close — not right here — but close enough . A ripple of noise from the pool, a sudden swell in the music like the DJ sensed the temperature spike and hit shuffle on something poppy to compensate. But it didn’t work. Not for me.
Because I could still feel the eyes.
Girls lined along the pool in their bikini armor and smirks.
Sharon, Bubba’s bitch of an ex, in her green wrap and sunglasses pushed into her hair like a damn movie star, looked amused .
She whispered something to Patty, who full-on grinned like this was the best part of the evening. Popcorn-worthy drama.
But it was Maria who undid me.
Maria, who stood near the lounge chairs with a drink in her hand and pity in her eyes.
I’d take anger. I'd take disgust. I'd take her calling me every name in the book, throw her drink in my face, flip me off. But not that look.
Not like she already thought I lost.
I turned away from them, heat crawling up my neck. My hands were shaking. I flexed them and shoved them into my pockets like that would stop the tremble.
“Let’s go,” Coop said, voice low in my ear. “Before this gets worse.”
“It’s not worse yet?” I muttered, still not looking at anyone.
“You tell me, man,” Bubba said from my other side. “’Cause right now it’s looking a whole lot like a meltdown in surround sound.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The music didn’t cover it up. The laughter didn’t erase it. We’d pulled attention like a black hole in the middle of a sunny backyard. Even the people pretending not to watch were watching . You can always tell when someone’s listening — the stillness gives them away.
We had a lot of stillness around us.
“C’mon.” Coop gave me a light shove. “We’ll go out front. Cool off. Reassess the war plan.”
Bubba snorted. “It’s not a war, Coop.”
“The hell it isn’t,” I snapped, finally facing them. “You didn’t hear what she said. About him. About them.”
“I heard it,” Coop said, tight. “Doesn’t mean you get to go nuclear at a pool party .”
Bubba tipped his head toward the gate. “Let’s take a walk.”
I looked back once, just once, and saw Frenchy sitting again. Calm. Composed. Still there .
And Archie?
Archie was leaning back in his chair, nursing a drink and watching the world burn like he’d lit the match himself.
I hated them both in that moment.
But I hated myself more.
I followed Coop and Bubba around the side of the house, past the hedge line and the speakers and the patio lights strung like fairy dust illusions over a night gone sour. The second we were out of sight, I dragged both hands down my face, trying to pull myself out of my skin.
Bubba popped open another bottle of beer he must have grabbed on our way past and handed it to me like it was a peace offering.
I didn’t take it.
“I shouldn’t have lost it,” I muttered.
“Nope,” Bubba agreed. “You really shouldn’t’ve.”
“But also,” Coop added, “he is kind of a smug asshole. So, like… partial credit?”
I almost laughed. Almost.
Instead, I dropped to sit on the edge of the fountain. The line of cars around us provided some kind of cover, but it wasn’t like the bricks or stone or even the chrome had any answers.
“She didn’t even look at me,” I said. “Not once.”
They didn’t answer.
They didn’t have to.
Because I already knew.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. The sun-warmed stone made my legs sweat, but maybe if I roasted my ass enough, I’d just burn up.
Coop sat next to me and sighed. Bubba stood off to the side, popping open another bottle of beer. The one he’d left next to me began to sweat. I could hear the music drifting around the side of the house, something fast and upbeat, a total contrast to the black pit in my stomach.
The silence was heavier now. Not just uncomfortable, but weighted . All we needed was someone to acknowledge the blast radius.
I was the first to crack.
“I said it out loud.”
Coop didn’t look up, but I could see his jaw clench. Bubba let out a slow breath and finally walked over, picked up the bottle next to me and pressed it into my hand. I closed my fingers around it reflexively.
“I said it,” I repeated, quieter. “I actually said it. In front of everyone.”
Bubba rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “At least you didn’t shout it?”
That almost made me laugh. Another almost.
Instead, I winced. Hard. The moment replayed in my head like a glitchy projector, overexposed, off-kilter, all sharp edges. She loved me first . You touched her . Fucked her . I hadn’t just lost it. I’d detonated.
The word hung in the back of my brain now, echoing: fucked . In public. At a party. In front of our entire class, half the swim team, and probably some freshman with a TikTok account.
My stomach turned. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” Coop said. “You, uh… kinda announced it.”
I gritted my teeth. “God.”
Bubba finally looked at me, steady and unflinching. “You didn’t just say it, man. You gave it to them . Every guy in that backyard who’s been wondering what went down between them just got their answer. From you . Not her. Not him.”
I swallowed hard.
“Now she has to walk back into that patio,” Bubba went on, “and every single person out there is gonna know something that was never supposed to be public.”
“Worse,” Coop added. “They’re gonna talk about it. Twist it. Use it.”
I covered my face with both hands and groaned into my palms. “Jesus Christ. I didn’t even think—I just?—”
“Yeah,” Bubba said quietly. “That’s the problem.”
It hit like a punch to the throat. Frankie’s face flashed in my memory, right before she walked off with Rachel. That high, brittle smile. The tight grip on her sarong. The way she never once looked my way. And now?
Now I’d made it worse.
No—not worse. Unfixable .
“She’s gonna hate me.”
Neither of them contradicted me.
Coop shifted, exhaling hard. “I don’t think she hated you before.”
Great. “And now?”
Now, maybe she should.
The ground should open and swallow me whole. Or maybe like I should just get in my damn car and leave. Drive until I could forget. Forget her laugh. Her skin. Her eyes the last time they were on me and not filled with pain.
Instead, I sat there, on the edge of the fountain as if the world hadn’t just shifted .
“I’ve ruined everything,” I said. Not to them. Just… to the air. To the night. To myself.
Bubba looked up at the sky like maybe he was hoping for divine intervention. “You can’t un-say it.”
Coop stood, brushing off his hands. “But maybe you can own it.”
I looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
He shrugged. “Don’t hide from it. Don’t pretend you didn’t screw up. Don’t make her carry it alone. You want to fix it? Then start by not making it about you.”
The last of the rage burned out of me like an ember dropped in a puddle.
Just steam and silence.
And the sound of laughter, echoing from the party I wasn’t sure I still belonged to.