CLARISSA’S POV
Landon.
My stomach tightens, and my breath catches. For a second, I think I’m imagining it. But no—he’s here, standing in front of us. He glares at Wally like he wants to kill him.
“This has nothing to do with you,” Wally says.
“The hell it doesn’t,” he snaps “You don’t get to f**k someone over and then waltz back in like nothing happened.”
Wally arches a brow, unfazed. “Oh, and you do?” He tilts his head, his smirk returning. “Remind me again—how many girls have you f****d and tossed aside?”
Landon’s entire body goes rigid. His fists clench at his sides, and for a second, I swear he’s about to hit him.
“Landon,” I breathe, stepping forward. My hand reaches for his arm. My fingers wrap around the tight muscle of his forearm. “Don’t.”
But he barely hears me. His glare
