Page 5 of Vendetta

I made it to class with seconds to spare, the massive auditorium already buzzing with the chatter of a hundred or so students. I quickly slid into one of the only open seats at the end of the second row, deliberately avoiding the steep steps leading to the upper rows. The last thing I needed was to trip and draw more attention to my half-asleep, disheveled state.

As I pulled my MacBook from my backpack, a strange sensation crept up my spine—the unmistakable prickling awareness of being watched. Which I understood must have sounded crazy considering the number of students in the room, but I could have sworn that somewhere, there was a set of eyes burning into the back of my head. I tried to shake it off, but the feeling persisted, gnawing at the edges of my focus.

Unable to ignore it any longer, I faked a casual stretch, using the motion as an excuse to glance over my shoulder. My stomach dropped. Locked onto me from across the room was a pair of piercing green eyes, their intensity unmistakable. Cashton.

Of course, he would be here. Because apparently, the universe decided today wasn’t bad enough already.

I hadn’t noticed him last week, but that was probably because only freshmen bothered showing up during syllabus week—a fact Olivia had casually mentioned over the weekend. Judging by the now-packed auditorium, it seemed she was right. Even so, I was certain I would have noticed him if he’d beenhere. With his towering frame, sharp features, and the air of intensity that seemed to follow him like a shadow, he was the kind of presence you couldn’t overlook, no matter how hard you tried.

Wetness immediately pooled between my legs remembering the last time our eyes had been locked like this, his dick down some girl’s throat, and heat quickly spread across my face as I remembered how I had touched myself with him in mind.

I refused to shrink under his murderous gaze, instead meeting it head-on with a glare of my own. Cashton was sitting with a group of guys I didn’t recognize, the blond beside him clearly oblivious to the way his attention was locked elsewhere. Thankfully, Professor Lee chose that moment to sweep into the room, her commanding presence breaking the tension and giving me the perfect excuse to turn back around.

I made a point of appearing unbothered as I opened my laptop, ready to take notes. My focus stayed on Professor Lee as she launched into her lecture, but keeping my composure felt like an uphill battle. I allowed myself one glance—just one—when she stepped out of the room for a moment. My eyes flicked sideways, and there he was, laughing with his friends as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

It was strange seeing him like that—relaxed, smiling, those damn dimples on full display. The casual charm radiating off him was a jarring contrast to the sharp hostility he’d directed at me yesterday. It made something in my chest twist in a way I didn’t care to examine.

But if Cashton wanted to hate me for reasons I couldn’t begin to fathom, fine. Two could play that game. I’d be steering as far clear of him as possible.

I made my way to the Founder’s Fountain to meet up with Bexley before our next class. Her long, strawberry-red hair was neatly braided over one shoulder, and her nose was buried in a textbook, as usual. I was grateful to have at least one class with her this semester. Most of her schedule was packed with upper-level science courses, thanks to all the college credits she’d racked up during high school.

Bexley studied harder than anyone I’d ever met, and her discipline was something I couldn’t help but envy. While my high school years were a whirlwind of social events and last-minute cramming, hers had been laser-focused on academics and training her horses. That dedication paid off—Bexley not only had a clear career path in mind but was already working toward it. Her passion for Microbiology radiated whenever she talked about it.

Meanwhile, I had settled on Communications as a major, more because it felt like a safe bet than anything else. I wasn’t quite sure where it would lead, but I figured I had four years to sort that out.

Bexley looked up as I approached, her hazel eyes lighting up as she set her textbook aside. I slid onto the edge of the fountain next to her, relieved to take a breather from my chaotic morning.

“Hey! Did you see Olivia’s text in the group chat?” Bexley greeted me with excitement as I approached.

“Not yet. What does it say?” I asked, pulling out my phone, realizing I’d ignored it during my last class to avoid distractions.

“She wants to know if we’re up for a homemade pizza and wine night at her house this weekend. TJ and Nate will be out of town for the away game, so it’ll just be us girls. She said we can hang out by the pool all day and even stay the night—she offered to set us up in the guest bedrooms.” Bexley’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes of course!” I grinned. “We could definitely use a girl’s night.”

The weekend at Olivia’s sounded like the perfect opportunity to casually bring up Cashton and figure out if she knew what his problem with me was. I hadn’t mentioned him to either her or Bexley yet, mostly because we’d all crashed hard after getting home yesterday. But with Cashton living with Zayn and Kaptan, it was almost a guarantee that we would be around each other at some point or another.

Hopefully, whatever grudge he seemed to have against me would have subsided by then.

By the time we wrapped up our class, the dull throb of my headache had mostly faded. Feeling somewhat human again, Bexley and I decided on a quick lunch at the canteen before going our separate ways. She headed toward the science labs, her bag slung over one shoulder, while I turned toward our apartment with one singular goal in mind: crawling back into bed.

The hours spent baking in the sun yesterday had drained me completely, and I wasn’t about to fight the fatigue. As soon as I got home, I threw on some comfort reruns of my favoriteshow, the familiar dialogue playing softly in the background as I settled under my comforter. Within minutes, I’d drifted off, surrendering the rest of the afternoon to blissful, uninterrupted sleep.

—

“He did WHAT?” I asked, dumbfounded. “I’m telling you, it was so hot. Bexley agrees with me too! Girl, you really need to give it a try. Don’t knock it until you read it!” Olivia replied.

It was Saturday night, the week having flown by thanks to packed classes and studying. The day had been spent lounging by Olivia’s pool, the faint burn on my shoulders and the rosy flush across my cheeks deepening each time I caught my reflection. Just as planned, we each crafted our own personal pizzas under the guidance of Olivia’s self-taught pizza-making expertise—something she’d proudly honed after a week of YouTube tutorials.

Olivia had also gotten each of us matching cream satin pajama sets for the occasion, which we had changed into after each showering.

The pizzas were now baking in the oven, filling her sprawling kitchen with the comforting aroma of melted cheese and crispy crusts. Glasses of wine in hand, the three of us lingered around the island, chatting and laughing.

Bexley, still not much of a drinker, had a glass of rosé she was nursing cautiously. She’d grown more confident and outgoing over the last couple of weeks, surprising both Olivia and I. The biggest shock, however, had been learning about hertaste in books. Behind her sweet, quiet demeanor was someone who devoured stories as wild and unhinged as the ones Olivia loved. It was a revelation I would’ve never guessed.

“Okay, okay, fine!” I conceded. “I’ll give it a try. One of you lend me a beginner one and I’ll start it tomorrow, promise.”

“Or we could just throw you directly into the deep end, that would be way more fun.” Olivia laughed, winking at Bexley as I rolled my eyes at my friend.

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