Chapter Two

SOLANA

As we walk across campus, Tyler’s hand stays firmly on my waist.

I keep my head down, focusing on the sound of my footsteps against the pavement.

People greet him as we pass—classmates, professors, random girls who giggle and twirl their hair. He responds to all of them effortlessly, flashing that easygoing smile, making them feel special for just a second.

It’s sickening how good he is at this.

We stop outside the English building, and I shift uncomfortably under his arm.

“This is me.” I murmur.

Tyler glances at the time on his watch, then leans in, brushing his lips against my ear.

“Don’t be late getting out this time.” he murmurs, his tone light but laced with something underneath. “I’ll pick you up after, yeah?”

I nod, swallowing against the tightness in my throat.

His fingers trail down my side before he pulls away, flashing me one last smirk before turning back toward the main quad. His teammates are already waiting, laughing, shoving each other around.

I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and step inside the building. It’s quieter here, calmer. I cling to that feeling as I walk toward my class, trying to remind myself that, for the next few hours at least, I can breathe.

The classroom is already half full when I walk in. I slip into a seat near the middle, not too close to the front but not far enough back to stand out. I keep my head down as I pull out my notebook, ignoring the quiet chatter around me.

No one greets me. No one even looks my way.

It’s always like this.

Not because they don’t notice me—I know they do. I see the way some of the guys glance at me when they think no one’s watching. But none of them would dare talk to me.

Because I belong to Tyler Matthews.

They all know better. Whether it’s because they’ve seen his temper or because they’ve heard the rumors, I don’t know. I don’t want to know. But I learned a long time ago that it’s easier this way.

No friends. No one to ask questions. No one to notice the things I don’t say.

The professor walks in, and the murmurs fade. I grip my pen and focus on the lecture, scribbling notes as he talks about 19th-century literature.

This is the only time I feel a little bit like myself. When I’m buried in words, in stories that aren’t mine. Here, I can breathe.

For now.

The lecture drones on, but I hang onto every word, letting the professor’s voice drown out the thoughts circling in my head.

This is the only place where I don’t have to be Tyler Matthews’ girlfriend. I’m just another student, another face in the crowd.

I scribble notes quickly, underlining key points, genuinely interested in the discussion about Gothic literature. There’s something about the dark, haunting themes that feels too familiar—trapped heroines, dangerous men, a love that is more curse than blessing.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

The class ends faster than I expected, and when the professor dismisses us, I take my time packing up. Most of the students file out in pairs or small groups, chatting about assignments, making plans.

I slip my notebook into my bag and pull my sleeves down over my wrists before heading toward the door.

Outside, the sun is too bright, making me squint. I instinctively check my phone.

Tyler: Where are you?

Tyler: I’m waiting by the quad. Hurry up, babe.

I suck in a breath and quicken my pace.

By the time I reach the quad, I spot him instantly. He’s standing with his teammates, his car parked illegally on the curb, as if rules don’t apply to him.

He’s laughing at something Caleb said, looking so effortlessly him. Tall, broad shoulders, golden-brown hair tousled in that perfect way, confidence radiating from every inch of him.

He sees me approaching and grins. “There’s my girl.”

His arm is around my waist before I can react, pulling me in, kissing my temple like he’s the perfect boyfriend. His teammates chuckle, making comments about how “whipped” he is.

They have no idea.

Tyler smirks and tightens his hold. “Ready to go?”

I nod, because I don’t have a choice.

He opens the passenger door for me like a gentleman, but as I slide in, I can feel the shift.

His fingers graze my thigh when he leans in, and his voice drops low. “Took you long enough.”

I swallow hard, forcing a small smile. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side.

The silence in the car is thick.

Tyler’s grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles slightly white. His jaw ticks, his hazel eyes locked on the road, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.

I keep my hands folded in my lap, my gaze fixed on the dashboard. I don’t ask what’s wrong. I don’t have to.

I should have been faster. I should have texted back sooner. I should have—

“So,” he finally says, his voice deceptively calm. “What took you so long?”

I hesitate. “I—um, I was just taking notes. The professor was still talking when class ended.”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You always do this, Solana. You know I hate waiting.”

“I—I wasn’t trying to make you wait,” I say quickly, my fingers tightly curled against my lap. “I just lost track of time.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Lost track of time?” His fingers drum against the wheel. “Right. You were probably too busy with your little books to care that I was standing there like an idiot.”

Guilt twists in my stomach. “I wasn’t—”

He cuts me off. “Who were you talking to?”

I blink. “What?”

Tyler’s jaw clenches. “In class. Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” I whisper. “You know I don’t—”

He slams his hand against the steering wheel, making me flinch.

“Don’t lie to me, Solana.” His voice is sharp, cutting. “I saw the way some of those guys were looking at you.”

I shake my head quickly. “I didn’t talk to anyone, Tyler. I swear.”

“Why did you wear that outfit anyway? Is my attention not enough?”

My jaw drops. “But you—”

“Whatever. Just forget it.”

“I'm sorry.” I whisper.

His grip on the wheel remains tight, but he doesn’t say anything for a long moment. The air in the car feels suffocating.

Then, just as suddenly as it came, his anger disappears. He exhales, rolling his shoulders back like he’s shaking off the tension.

“Okay,” he finally says, glancing at me. His expression softens, and he reaches over, brushing his fingers against my knee.

“I just don’t want anyone getting ideas, baby. You’re mine.”

I nod automatically, my throat dry. “I know.”

He smiles, and just like that, the perfect boyfriend is back.

“Good,” he says, turning up the music like nothing happened. “Now, let’s go grab something to eat. My treat.”

I nod again, forcing a smile.

~~~~~~

The restaurant Tyler picks is one of the expensive ones he likes—modern, dimly lit, with overpriced meals that he doesn’t even glance at before ordering.

I pick at my salad while he eats his steak, talking about his upcoming game, his stats, and the scouts who are supposed to be watching him this season. He doesn’t ask about my classes, and I don’t offer anything. That’s just how it is.

Halfway through dinner, he notices I haven’t eaten much.

“Sol, come on,” he sighs, setting his fork down. “Where's your appetite?”

“I’m just not that hungry,” I murmur, keeping my eyes on my plate.

He leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “You barely eat, and then you complain about feeling tired all the time.”

I don’t remember ever complaining about being tired, but I don’t correct him. I just nod and take another bite, forcing myself to chew and swallow.

His mood shifts again after that, back to the charming, playful Tyler. He tells me a joke, teases me about how quiet I am, and reminds me how lucky he is to have such a beautiful girlfriend.

I smile when I’m supposed to, laugh when he expects me to.

When we finish eating, he pays without hesitation, barely glancing at the bill before sliding his card to the waiter. His family has money—a lot—and he likes to remind people of that.

As we walk back to his car, he throws an arm around me, pulling me close as we cross the parking lot.

“See?” he murmurs against my temple. “We’re good now, yeah?”

I nod, because what else am I supposed to do?

~~~~~

The drive back to the apartment is quiet. Tyler hums along to the music, completely relaxed now, like the tension from earlier never happened.

When he pulls up to the building, he leans over, gripping my chin between his fingers. His green eyes scan my face before he smirks.

“I’ll be back after practice. Try not to miss me too much.”

He kisses me—soft this time, a contrast to how rough he can be when he’s in a mood. It’s like he’s rewarding me for behaving.

I nod, unbuckling my seatbelt. “Okay.”

I step out, and before I can close the door, he calls out, “Wear something cute for later, yeah? We're going to a party.”

I freeze for a split second before   forcing another nod.

He grins, winking before peeling away from the curb, speeding toward campus for practice.

I exhale slowly, turning toward the apartment.

For the first time all day, I’m alone.

Finally.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇