Your Rival Saw Me Naked

Chapter 135

The text came at 11:32 PM on Friday.

We should talk. I think I understand now.

I stared at it for ten minutes. Should have deleted it. Should have blocked his number. Should have done literally anything except what I was about to do.

Instead, I texted back: Where?

His response was immediate: Murphy's. Tomorrow at 8?

Murphy's was the bar downtown that tried too hard to be upscale but still had peanut shells on the floor. The kind of place where finance bros met their tinder dates and pretended they had personalities.

Fine.

I hit send before I could talk myself out of it.

The next night, I showed up at 8:05. Late enough to prove I wasn't desperate. Early enough that he couldn't accuse me of standing him up.

He was already there. Two drinks in based on the empty glass pushed to the side and the fresh whiskey in his hand. Still wearing his work clothes like he came straight from the office. Tie loosened just enough to look casual but not sloppy.

"Zoey." He stood when I approached. Tried to hug me.

I slid into the booth across from him instead. "Hey."

He sat back down. Studied me like I was a puzzle he'd finally figured out. "You look good."

"Thanks."

"Want a drink?"

"I'm not staying long."

His smile faltered. "Okay. Well. I wanted to talk."

"You said that already."

He took a sip of whiskey. Gathered courage or arrogance or whatever was fueling this conversation. "I've been thinking about everything. About us. About why you ended it."

I didn't respond. Just waited.

"And I get it now." He reached across the table. Tried to hold my hand. "You needed to get him out of your system. It's fine. We can move past it."

I pulled my hand back like he was on fire. "This isn't about getting anyone out of my system."

"Then what is it?"

The question hung there. Genuine. Confused. Like he genuinely couldn't comprehend why I wouldn't want to come back to his perfectly planned life.

"It's about realizing I never should have been with you in the first place."

His expression hardened. Jaw tight, eyes cold. The mask slipping just enough to show what was underneath. "Because of him? You're throwing away two years for some high school fantasy?"

"I'm choosing myself for the first time in my life."

"That's bullshit and you know it." His voice was rising. People at the next table were starting to glance over. "You're running back to some guy who broke your heart five years ago because you're too scared to build something real."

"What we had wasn't real, Daniel. It was convenient."

"Convenient?" He laughed. Sharp. Bitter. "I proposed to you. I wanted to marry you. How is that convenient?"

"You wanted to marry the version of me that fit into your life. Not the actual me."

"Because the actual you is self-destructive and immature."

The words should have hurt. Should have landed like the insult they were meant to be. Instead, they just made me tired. I stood up. Grabbed my bag.

He reached across the table. Grabbed my wrist. Not hard enough to hurt. Just firm enough to stop me. "You're making a mistake."

"Let go."

"Zoey—"

"Let. Go."

I yanked my wrist free. His hand dropped. The bar had gone quiet around us. Everyone pretending not to watch while obviously watching.

I didn't look back. Just walked through the door into the parking lot where the air was cold and clean and didn't smell like whiskey and regret.

My car was parked under a streetlight three rows back. I was halfway there when I saw him. Chase.

Leaning against my driver's side door like he'd been there for hours. Hands in his pockets. Hood up. Looking dangerous and familiar and exactly like what I needed.

I stopped a few feet away. "What are you doing here?"

"Heard you were meeting him." He shrugged. "Wanted to make sure you got out okay."

Something in his presence steadied me. Grounded me in a way that made my chest feel less tight. "You were worried?"

"Wouldn't say worried." His mouth curved slightly. "Just... aware."

"That's the same thing."

"Maybe it is."

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his eyes under the streetlight. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold.

"How long have you been out here?" I asked.

"Long enough."

"You could've come inside."

"Didn't want to interrupt."

"What if I needed rescuing?"

"Then I would've come in."

My throat felt tight. "How did you even know I was here?"

"Jasmine mentioned it. Said she was worried about you meeting him alone."

"So you came."

"So I came."

The admission hung between us. Honest. Raw. No games. No pretending he didn't care.

"I told him we're done," I said. "For real this time."

"Good."

"He thinks I'm making a mistake."

"He's wrong."

"You don't know that."

He took another step. So close now I had to tilt my head back to look at him. "Yeah. I do."

Then he kissed me.

Not hidden behind buildings or parked in dark lots. Not apologetic or uncertain. Right there under the streetlight where anyone driving past could see. Where Daniel could walk out and witness it. Where the entire town could document it and add it to their collection of reasons I was a mess.

And I didn't care.

I kissed him back like I was proving something. To Daniel. To Amber. To everyone who thought I was self-destructing instead of rebuilding. His hands found my waist. Mine slid into his hair. We kissed like we were making up for five years of almost and maybe and not yet.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against mine.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Getting there."

"Want to get out of here?"

"Desperately."

He opened my car door. "Follow me?"

"Where?"

"Anywhere that's not here."

I climbed in. Started the engine. Watched him walk to his truck parked two rows over.

My phone buzzed. Text from Daniel: You'll regret this.

I deleted it without responding.

Then I followed Chase out of the parking lot and didn't look back once.