Page 29 of Resist

“Po will be here soon to take us to practice,” I force out, my voice choked and tight. I’m barely keeping it together.

He nods, and I swallow hard. “You should shower,” I say as tears fill my eyes, then I turn away. He says nothing. He doesn’t tell me I’m wrong or that it’s all okay. He doesn’t come after me.

With my back to him, I hesitate. “You should place a cold compress on your lips. They are swollen,” I mutter before I escape upstairs.

I barely make it to my room, slamming the door shut before I sink to my knees and cry. Biting my hand, I press my knees to my chest and try to stifle my sobs.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

It hurts so much.

I’ve really lost him, haven’t I?

They say love is healing, but they don’t tell you how it breaks you as well.

I manage to pull myself together, and my hurt is replaced by anger—not just at him, but at whoever he was with. Don’t they know he belongs to me? It’s so obvious. Scrolling through social media, I begin to stalk Team. It has to be him. Fox wouldn’t fuck a total stranger. It isn’t who he is. He likes a connection.

I navigate to his page, but there’s nothing. I deep dive, searching and finding a private account. Logging out, I quicklylog into Fox’s, then I hit follow and wait. He accepts moments later, and I scroll through his posts. It’s mostly for his friends and family, stuff celebrities dare not post without being judged or having it used against them, but I open his stories.

It’s a film, but there are two sets of feet, and I would know the second pair anywhere.

I know every inch of him even better than myself, and that is Fox.

My anger turns to fury, and before I know it, I have his address from a friend and I’m shoving my shoes on. I hesitate in the hall, staring at Fox’s closed door.

Testing his knob, I find it locked, and that’s the last shard of my shattered heart. I press my forehead to the wood and struggle to breathe. Turning away, I race down the stairs and out of the door. I drive as fast as I can, and when I find the apartment building, I tap my feet impatiently as the elevator rises.

I’m acting crazy. It’s early morning, and he doesn’t know me, but I can’t stop myself as I hunt down the number I need and slam my fist into the door.

It flies open, and the same man from the club stands there. Team is shirtless, his lips still puffy, as he blinks at me, half asleep. “Ryker?” He rubs his eyes. “I wondered how long it would take you.”

“He was here tonight, wasn’t he?” I demand.

“And if he was?” he asks, leaning casually against the door.

What does Fox see in him? He’s just a pretty face with a terrible attitude. Is that all it takes?

“Stay away from him. I mean it,” I growl.

“Why?” He smirks, raising his eyebrow as he tilts his head.

“He’s mine.” The words slip out before I can change them, but I don’t regret them. Fox has been mine since he first joinedour band. That won’t change. One night with this blond fuck won’t take him from me.

There’s a flash of satisfaction in his eyes as he uncrosses his arms, and I don’t understand. “Let me give you some free advice, Ryker.”

“Like I need any from you,” I snarl.

“Obviously you do, since Fox was here and not with you,” he retorts, cutting me to my core and silencing me. “I thought he was the obsessed one, but I was wrong. He doesn’t know, does he? How many people have you warned away from him? How many times have you stolen his chance at happiness, all while being too scared to tell him?”

“Shut up,” I bark as he steps closer, his eyes seeing too much.

“You’re too scared to tell him that you love him,” he finishes, and I swallow hard. “I thought so.” He looks me over. “You’re a coward, Ryker. Don’t try to sugarcoat it. You’re scared, but you’re going to lose him if you don’t do something about it soon.” He grips his door as he looks me over. “He deserves better, so sort your shit out before he realizes that too.” He slams the door in my face as I gape.

Is he right? Do I love Fox?

Is that what this is?

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