“Come on,” he prods, gesturing her to follow him. “You’ll like the taco, I promise.” “I probably will,” she says, “but that still doesn’t mean I should eat it.” Melissa clutches Ryke’s hand and begins to pull him towards the outside grill behind a set of palm trees. “She doesn’t want a taco,” she says, tugging him like a child would a parent. “Let’s go.” Ryke’s jaw locks, and I think he would try to convince Daisy until she relented, but not with Melissa yanking his arm. So he leaves with that failure. Ryke inserting himself in other people’s problems is nothing new. I’m not surprised that he
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