AVA

My head’s a fucking mess. You know that feeling when someone dumps a bucket of ice over you? Yeah—that’s me right now. My chest is tight, my thoughts are spiraling, and all I can see is that damn picture. Part of me wants to call Fernando and demand why the hell he sent it, and the other part wants to hunt down Nicklaus and shove it in his face.

And what do you even do when your mate shuts you out right after an intense make-out? Cry behind closed doors? Beg to be seen? Beg to be heard?

Not me. That’s not fucking me.

I’ve got one plan and...