Page 148 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

And the backlash…

Oh, it was immediate.

Tabloids picked it up within the hour. Clickbait titles were multiplying like roaches.From viral star to mountain mistress. Riley Brooks caught in another scandal.

The trolls came crawling out of the woodwork, like they’d been waiting for a new excuse to drag me down. The comments were cruel, predictable, and somehow still hit like a punch to the gut.

Of course it’s her.

Trash attracts trash.

This is what happens when you give nobodies fame.

I knew better than to read them. But I read them anyway.

And what scared me more than the hate was the flicker of something else. Something hot and electric in my blood.

Fame. Notoriety. Attention.

The old me would’ve loved this.

The Riley from a few months ago would’ve leaned in. She’d have posted a cryptic selfie, made a joke about orgies, gone viral all over again with some flippant caption that let people think what they wanted while she raked in the engagement.

But this Riley?

This Riley felt split down the middle.

One half curled into Asher’s side, nauseous and shaking, terrified of what this meant for Lucy, for the baby, for everything she’d built back up from the ruins.

And the other half…

That part of me looked at#RileyBrooksScandaland felt the tiniest thrill.

Like touching a bruise to see if it still hurt.

The past was calling out to me, saying:See? You’re still interesting. Still worth watching.

It made me sick. But it also made me feel alive.

What the hell was wrong with me?

We didn’t wait for Lucy to call back.

By noon, she still wasn’t answering any of us, texts, calls, voicemails, nothing, and panic had officially settled like a stone in my chest.

“She’s probably with Nate still,” Beckett said, grabbing his keys.

“Or she saw the headline and smashed her phone,” Garrett muttered, already pulling on his boots.

“Then we’re going to her,” I said, standing despite the sick feeling curling in my stomach. “We’re not waiting for her to find out the rest from strangers.”

I didn’t know what we’d say when we saw her. But I knew we had to try.

We drove out to her cabin first, but the place was empty—no car, no sign of her. So we turned around and headed into town.

The ride into Medford was quiet. Too quiet. No one turned on the radio. No one said a word.

I sat in the back seat between Beckett and Garrett while Asher drove, my phone clutched in my lap like it might bite me if I let it go.

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