Chapter 17

"You alright?" His voice snapped me out of my mental spiral. "What?" I blinked at him, my brain still buffering. Ashton gave me a quick side glance. "Earlier. At the hospital. Did he... hurt you?" "You mean Rhys?" I said. "No." Technically true. Not for lack of trying, though. Rhys practically lived at the gym, probably had protein shakes for blood. If he'd landed a hit, I'd have been scraping bits of myself off the floor with a dustpan. I added, softer this time, "Thank you." He didn't say "you're welcome." Instead, his grip on the steering wheel went full Incredible Hulk—veins popping as if they were auditioning for a fitness ad. I stared. Was he angry? At me? At Rhys? "That was your ex-fiancé?" he finally asked, voice low. "Yeah." He looked like he had about seven things he wanted to say, and none of them were polite enough for public consumption. In the end, he just nodded and stared straight ahead. The rest of the drive was silent. Not awkward-silent, just... broody. We got to the