Page 122 of Under the Lights

And time and time again, I pushed him away. Yet, he was still here, his words proving that in fact, hedidknow me. Even worse, proving that this thing between us was long past casual.

I needed to get out of here, escape the confinements of this truck, escape the look on his handsome face, as though this whole conversation was tearing him up from the inside.

For once he refused to look at me, and he didn’t stop or follow me as I climbed out of his truck.

It felt like a fist had closed around my throat as I walked towards my apartment building. I turned at the last second. He was still in the truck, engine off, watching. He gave me a barely-there nod.

No pressure. Just presence.

And my heart clenched. How the hell was he always exactly where I needed him?

You’re not going to cry, I ordered myself.You’re not going to cry. Over a fucking man, no less.

Pathetic.

But my heart didn’t care about any of that, and his words replayed in my head, over and over again.

Thirty Seven

Dom/Sierra

Dom

The bark of the tree I leaned against scratched my jacket as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. With my fists buried in my pockets and my hood up, I lurked in the shadows.

Truly the epitome of the classic cautionary tale.

It was late, and the campus around me was hushed by the chill of fall. The library’s warm glow spilled out onto the empty quad.

The faint smell of grass and cold stone surrounded me, and the only sound I heard was the quiet rustling of dead leaves.

She didn’t know I was here. She wouldn’t like it if she did. But I couldn’t help it. Not when she looked so exhausted.

So alone.

Obsession hummed in my chest and spread through my veins with every heartbeat. No matter how sharp her words had been, I didn’t want her walking alone this late.

My gaze snapped up as the library doors opened, letting more light spill out of the opening and casting long shadowsacross the grass. My girl stepped out of the library with her handbag in the crook of her elbow and her phone in hand.

The door shut behind her with a resounding thud, but her attention was on the device in her hand. I watched her shoulders tighten ever so slightly as the screen flashed in the distance.

Her face illuminated by her phone screen, Sierra grimaced, apparently more annoyed than afraid, and started down the now familiar route back to her apartment.

My stomach was in knots. I’d seen the tension she tried to hide, but she just refused to talk to me. To open up.

My Goddess was independent, driven by the urge to handle everything on her own. But sometimes you needed help. Some burdens were better shared, and I was done pretending I didn’t see it.

I pushed myself off the tree and started moving. Quiet. Just a few steps behind. Close enough to intervene if I needed to.

We’d just left the quad behind when the shadows moved. Three shapes emerged from the darkness between the trees lining the path.

I froze, my pulse spiking instantly as the adrenaline hit before logic could kick in.

Of fucking course, one of them was Douchebag David, swaggering in my girls’ path with a cold look in his eyes, in all his frat-boy glory. Two others flanked him.

They were both unfamiliar, but it wasn’t hard to make the connection. Their similar outfits and default haircuts were a dead giveaway of them being some of his little frat bros.

“Sierra,” David drawled, stepping into her path. “Didn’t think we’d have to do this. You’re making this way harder than it needs to be.”

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