Page 119 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

This feels mean-spirited ngl.

Why are you bullying her?

Girl, calm down.

Okay, but who is Mr. Brooding tho?

Is this even live or is it staged? It’s giving desperation.

Ava hesitated, scrolling a little faster, her brow tightening.

“You know what?” I said, voice quiet now. “You didn’t come here to report drama. You came here hoping I’d be the train wreck… so no one would notice you’re the one spiraling.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

And for the first time, Ava looked unsure.

The crowd had quieted. No one was laughing anymore. Some had already turned away. One teenage girl mouthed “yikes” before ducking behind her phone and disappearing around the corner.

The shift in energy was palpable. That sharp, pressurized silence from earlier? It had snapped, replaced by something thick and buzzing.

Uncertainty, discomfort, the electric hum of people realizing they’d gotten more than they bargained for.

“Ava,” Beckett said lowly, stepping between her and me, “you need to stop. Now.”

But she didn’t move. Her phone hovered in the air like a weapon she didn’t know how to lower, knuckles white around it.

That’s when Garrett touched my arm. “We’re getting out of here.”

I nodded, legs suddenly trembling as the adrenaline wore off, leaving nothing but cold and humiliation in its wake.

Asher stayed ahead of me, parting the thinning crowd with a hard stare and shoulders squared, a wall no one dared to push against.

We veered away from the bakery, away from Ava and the scattered spectators who couldn’t decide if this was entertainment or something they shouldn’t have been watching in the first place.

I caught someone filming as we passed, and for one terrifying second, I thought about all the places this moment might end up online by nightfall.

But then we slipped around the corner of the block, where the back entrance to The Foundry sat tucked between a row of old stone buildings and a narrow alley dusted in slush.

Samuel was already holding the door open.

“In here,” he said, face grave. “Go. Now.”

Inside was all shadow and warmth, brick walls and Edison bulbs, the faint smell of woodsmoke and espresso. It was like stepping through a portal into another world. One where none of the outside chaos could reach.

Adam was there, standing behind the bar with wide eyes and a towel over his shoulder. “What the hell just happened?”

“No time,” Beckett muttered, steering me past a high top and toward the hallway. “We need a place to sit her down.”

“I’ve got her.” Sadie’s voice came from behind us.

She appeared with a blanket already in hand, like she’d been waiting for the exact second I’d fall apart.

“Come on, honey,” she said gently, guiding me toward the office tucked behind the bar. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

The moment the door shut behind us, I collapsed onto the old leather couch. My hands trembled. My jaw hurt from clenching it.

And my vision, blurred from tears I hadn’t even realized had started, made the room swim around me.

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