Page 43 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

I exhaled hard and turned back toward the cabin. The firewood was done. The air between us, not so much. I needed distance. Clarity.Anything.

But her voice followed me as I walked away.

“Next time you decide something’s a mistake,” she called out, “maybe don’t kiss someone like you mean it. Because it isn’t… you know, fair.”

I paused.

Didn’t turn around. Didn’t answer.

Because she was right about that, too.

And the worst part?

Ihadmeant it. Every goddamn second of it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Riley

Judgment.

I should be used to it by now.

It’s part of the deal when you live your life online. The sneers, the snark, the anonymous comments that cut a little too close.

Normally, I could brush it off. Hell, sometimes I even turned it into fuel. Let them doubt me; I’d just rise higher.

But Beckett’s words, “All that for what? Likes?”

Those stuck.

Now, on my second night trapped in this stupidly picturesque cabin, with ice battering the roof and the smell of pine in the walls, I paced.

Restless. Irritated. Cheeks still hot from a conversation I should’ve shaken off forever ago.

Hollow. Silly. Fake.

I could hear his voice in my head, low and rough, slicing right through the paper armor I usually wore.

Why did it bother me so much?

Why couldn’t Isleepbecause of those silly little remarks?

He was just another guy who didn’t understand. Another person who thought influencing was all filters and freebies and no substance.

But somehow, his judgment hit in a way that a million Instagram comments never had.

I let out a frustrated breath and rubbed my arms, trying to shake the feeling crawling up my spine.Maybe I should leave tomorrow.

Forget the storm, forget the cabin, forget the whole idea of escaping to some mountain town where I clearly didn’t belong.

I turned, dragging a hand through my hair…

…and froze.

Beckett was there.

Leaning against the doorway in the dark, arms crossed over his chest, watching me in that maddeningly stoic way of his.

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