Rosalie wants more than boring hookups-she wants fire. Enter Reed, a cocky frat boy with a secret, and a plan to give her exactly what she craves.
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Rosalie is tired of boring, vanilla hookups. Who can match her freak?
Enter Reed Hurst, the cocky...
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Rosalie
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Silence.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then—footsteps. Slow, deliberate. And then Ace's smug voice, dripping with amusement.
"Well, well, well," he drawled. "Look who finally showed up."
I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. "Open the fucking door, Ace."
He chuckled. "Oh, sweetheart, you say that like you're in charge here."
Behind him, Elliot scoffed. "This isn't your business, Rosalie. Walk away."
I ignored him, my eyes locked on Ace. "He's panicking, you asshole. Let him out."
Ace smirked, tilting his head. "Why? You wanna play hero? You really think he'd do the same for you again?"
Another thud against the door—weak, desperate. Then a gasping, shuddering breath from inside.
"Please—" Reed's voice was barely there now, wrecked, raw. "I can't—I can't fucking—"
Another choked sound. His breathing was full-on hyperventilating now, sharp and rapid, like he was drowning in air.
I took a step forward, shoving past Elliot, getting right up in Ace's face. "I swear to God if you don't open that door right now, I will fucking end you."
Ace raised his eyebrows, mocking. "Ooo, scary. What are you gonna do, Rosalie? Stomp your little foot?"
I didn't wait for another word. I swung.
My fist connected hard with his jaw. He stumbled back, caught off guard, hand flying up to his face.
"Fucking bitch—"
I wasn't done. I grabbed at the handle, yanking, but it wouldn't budge. Locked.
Another gasp from inside. Reed was barely making a sound now—just these short, broken breaths, like his lungs weren't working anymore.
I turned on Elliot. "Give me the key."
He crossed his arms. "No."
"Elliot." My voice was a deadly whisper. "Give me the fucking key."
His jaw clenched. But before he could answer, Ace recovered, shaking off the hit like it hadn't even phased him.
"You wanna get to him so bad?" His smirk was pure cruelty. "Be my guest."
Then—he stepped back, lifted his leg—
—and kicked the door.
The impact sent a boom through the house. The wood splintered, the doorframe cracking—then the door burst open, swinging inward so violently it slammed against the wall.
