Beneath the Surface
Ryland Ignoring Krystal wasn’t working. I’d tried. f**k, I had tried. Keeping my distance, cutting conversations short, answering with only as many words as necessary. It should’ve been enough to push her away. To make her lose interest, get bored, maybe even f*****g hate me. But Krystal Tocher wasn’t the type to back down. Now she was sitting next to me, legs crossed, eyes sharp as she turned to face me. And that f*****g question— “Can we at least try to be friends?” Friends. What a goddamn joke. Nothing about us was friendly. Not the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. Not the way her voice got tight when she was pissed at me. And sure as hell not the way she kissed me. Because that kiss? That wasn’t some friendly, casual, meaningless s**t. That w
- Writer
