Page 118 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

“You think you’re so clever,” she retorted. “But your little followers—yeah, the ones still trying to makemelook like a bad person, digging up old stuff thatreallydoesn’t matter anymore—can’t outwitmyfans.” She tapped her screen, scrolling. “Let’s read a few of my favorite comments, shall we?”

My chest tightened.

“Riley’s nothing but a manipulative clout chaser who got what she deserved. Can’t wait to see her crying apology.” Ava smirked and looked up at me. “That one got over four thousand likes.”

A sharp sting bloomed in my chest. Not because it was new. Because it was familiar.

I’d read comments like that before.

I’d been trying my hardest to avoid them in the last couple of months.

Ava kept scrolling. “Oh, and here’s one:Jasper was clearly the money ticket, and look at him now. Living his best life with Alexa Maxfield. Where is Riley?”

Jasper had moved on? It was weird how little that affected me.

Ava saw the flicker in my expression and pounced, a vulture circling roadkill.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” she cooed. “Alexa Maxfield’s got him on red carpets and in music videos now. It’s like you were never even in his life.”

The words landed, but not how she wanted. Not with the sting she was aiming for.

Because it didn’t hurt the way it once might’ve.

Not when I had three people standing by my side right now who actuallyknewme.

Not when I’d finally stopped tying my worth to the version of me that only existed on someone else’s screen.

But Ava, she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

She squinted at her phone, scrolling again. “Oh, here’s a juicy one.Wait, is she sleeping with all three of those guys around her? Guess we know how she kept afloat in LA. Whore!”

My stomach flipped. Heat rose up my neck, not from shame, but fury.

Ava’s grin turned razor sharp. “Wow, Riley. Didn’t realize you were going full reality-TV reboot out here. Howvery2025 of you.”

She turned the phone toward the guys, slowly panning from Garrett to Beckett to Asher, as if they were trophies on some twisted display shelf. “Okay, followers, vote in the comments, who’s your favorite small-town side piece? Mr. Lumberjack? Mr. Brooding? Or Mr. Please Snap My Spine?”

Garrett let out a low growl, and Beckett actually stepped forward, but I caught his sleeve.

“No,” I said under my breath. “That’s what shewants. Don’t give it to her.”

Still, Asher looked like he wanted to rip her phone straight out of her hand and drop it in the nearest snowbank.

“Aw, come on, Riley,” Ava mocked, flipping the camera back to herself with an exaggerated gasp. “Are youseriouslymad people are asking questions? You practically walked out of a tabloid fantasy. The whole snowed-in-in-a-small-town-with-three-rugged-men thing is practically a Netflix pitch. What do you expect people to think?”

“I don’t care what people think,” I said calmly. “But Idocare about boundaries. Something you’ve never respected.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You lived your whole life online. Now you want privacy? That’s not how it works, sweetie.”

My patience snapped.

“No, Ava.That’snot how it works. Just because I used to share my life doesn’t mean you get to own it. And just because you’re hemorrhaging engagement doesn’t mean you get to barge into mine and light a match.”

There was a flicker in her eyes again. That word,hemorrhaging, hit hard.

Because it was true, wasn’t it?

I glanced at her phone screen briefly, saw the comments scrolling fast and messy:

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