My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86 A Lie Covering an Intimate Gesture

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I slid off the mattress. My bare feet hit the cold floor. I closed the distance between us, stopping a few inches from his chest. I did not reach out to touch him. I respected the physical boundary he just erected.

“You don’t have to run,” I told him.

Ryder paused. His hand rested on the brass lock of my window. He turned his head, looking down at me. The shadows in the room clung to the sharp angles of his face. The feral, restless energy returning to his posture made the small bedroom feel like a cage.

“I am not running, he stated. The gravel in his voice held a defensive edge. “I am leaving before your mother finds a suspended student in your bedroom and calls the police.”

“You were tracing patterns on my hand,” I said.

I stripped away his flimsy excuse. I forced the truth into the open air.

His jaw locked. The muscle beneath his fading bruise ticked in a rapid, erratic rhythm.

“I was grabbing the remote, Raisa,” he repeated.

The lie tasted bitter. It represented a stubborn refusal to admit the depth of his own heart.

“Okay, I whispered. I did not push the argument. I knew the cornered look in his eyes. Forcing the issue now would only cause him to strike out or retreat further into the dark. “I will see you at school.”

Ryder stared at me. The rigid line of his mouth softened a fraction of an inch. A silent, agonizing war raged behind his hazel eyes, He wanted to cross the space. He wanted to reach out and pull me back against his chest. The gravity between us was an absolute,

undeniable force.

He lifted his hand. His knuckles brushed the edge of my oversized hood.

We stood in the semi-darkness. The weight of the unspoken truth pressed against our chests. I watched the pulse beat at the base of his throat. He lived his life in constant preparation for the next disaster. He anticipated the fallout. He expected rejection. The tenderness he showed while I slept was the truest version of him, and yet it was the version he fought the hardest to kill.

Don’t put the walls back up, I pleaded. The words were a soft, desperate breath. “We promised no more lies. You don’t have to pretend

you don’t care.”

His hand dropped from my hood. He clenched his fingers into a fist at his side.

Caring makes you a target, Raisa. I told you that. I showed you that.”

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Chapter 86 A Lie Covering an Intimate Gesture

I am willing to be a target if it means I get to be with you.”

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The confession hung in the cold air. The depth of my own honesty shocked me. Two months ago, my biggest concern was maintaining my

valedictorian status and keeping a low profile. Now, I stood in the freezing pre-dawn light, offering myself up to the crosshairs of his

chaotic world.

Ryder closed his eyes. The pain etched into his features was a raw, bleeding wound.

“You don’t know what you are asking for. You don’t know the rest of it.”

“Then tell me.”

He shook his head. “Not here. Not now.”

The hardwood floor out in the hallway groaned.

The sound was sharp, heavy, and unmistakable.

Ryder froze. The lethal, hyper-aware predator instinct flooded his posture. He turned his head toward the closed bedroom door, his senses dialing into the noise.

Another heavy footstep echoed against the floorboards.

My stomach plummeted. A cold spike of sheer panic nailed my feet to the carpet.

My mother.

It was a quarter to six. She was awake early. My mother worked herself into the ground to keep a roof over our heads. She trusted me. She believed I prioritized my future over typical teenage distractions. Finding the notorious outcast of the county standing in my bedroom before dawn would break her heart. It would shatter the fragile foundation of our lives.

“She is awake, I breathed. The panic squeezed my vocal cords.

Ryder did not hesitate. He turned back to the window. He flipped the brass latch and shoved the glass sash upward. The cold morning wind blasted into the room, fluttering the edge of my curtains.

The footsteps in the hallway grew louder. They bypassed the staircase. They headed straight down the narrow corridor toward my room.

Ryder, hurry, I urged. My hands trembled.

He threw one long leg over the windowsill. He ducked his head, maneuvering his broad shoulders through the narrow frame. He paused. One foot rested on the carpet. One foot planted on the roof of the front porch outside. He looked back at me. The regret in his eyes mirrored the ache in my chest.

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