Chapter Four

SOLANA

The party is alive around me—music pulsing, people laughing, bodies moving. Tyler is in his element, beer in hand, talking with his teammates, throwing his head back in laughter. He’s electric, and everyone feels it.

I stand beside him, silent, playing my part.

His arm stays around my waist, fingers resting just above my hip, a silent claim. Even when he’s mid-conversation, his grip tightens if I shift even slightly—like a reminder. Stay close. Stay where you belong.

“Yo, Matthews!” Caleb calls from across the room, holding up a bottle of tequila. “Shots?”

Tyler grins. “Hell yeah.”

He turns to me, his eyes gleaming. “C’mon, baby. Let’s have some fun.”

I hesitate. “I—”

He tilts his head, his grip tightening.

“I mean… okay,” I say quickly.

His smile returns. “That’s my girl.”

He leads me to the kitchen, where a group has gathered around the island, pouring shots. Caleb hands us each one, and I stare down at the clear liquid.

Tyler clinks his glass against mine. “To Friday’s win.”

The guys cheer, and before I can think, I throw back the shot. The burn hits immediately, and I fight the urge to cough.

Tyler laughs, pulling me close. “Atta girl.”

The night moves in a blur after that. More drinks, more music, Tyler laughing, Tyler touching me, Tyler keeping me right by his side.

At some point, I stop keeping track of how many drinks I’ve had. I just nod when he hands me another. I smile when he expects me to. I laugh even when nothing is funny.

Because that’s what I do.

That’s what I always do.

~~~~

I don’t know how long we’ve been here when I start feeling light-headed. My skin feels warm, the room spinning slightly.

“I—I need some air,” I murmur, swaying slightly.

Tyler catches me instantly, steadying me. “You okay?”

I nod quickly. “Just… just a little dizzy.”

He exhales, looking down at me, like he’s debating something. Then, after a second, he nods.

“Alright. Let’s get you outside for a minute.”

Relief floods through me.

He keeps a firm grip on my waist as he leads me through the crowd, pushing open the back door.

Cool night air rushes over me, and I inhale deeply, closing my eyes.

“Better?” Tyler asks.

I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He smirks, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You’re such a lightweight, Sol.”

I let out a small laugh, but my head still feels heavy. The sounds of the party are muffled now, like I’m underwater.

Tyler leans against the porch railing, pulling me between his legs. His hands rest on my hips, but there’s something different in his eyes now. A certain look.

He cups my face, tilting it up to his. “You know how hot you look tonight?”

I swallow hard. “Tyler—”

“I mean it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw. “You’re mine, baby. You know that, right?”

I nod automatically. “I know.”

He kisses me—deep, possessive, like he’s proving something. His hands slide down my back, gripping, pulling me closer.

But my head is swimming, my body sluggish. Something feels off.

I press my hands against his chest, trying to push back slightly. “Wait, Ty, I–I just need a second.”

His grip tightens. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.”

His lips find my neck, and my pulse stutters.

Something’s wrong.

I feel wrong.

I try to steady my breath, to push the dizziness away, but it clings to me like a thick fog.

Tyler’s hands are firm on my waist, his lips trailing along my skin, and my body isn’t reacting the way it’s supposed to.

I should be kissing him back. Smiling. Letting him.

But all I feel is trapped.

“Tyler, please,” I murmur, my voice weaker than I want it to be. “Just—just give me a second.”

His grip on me stiffens for a split second, just long enough to send a flicker of fear through me. But then he exhales sharply, pulling back just enough to look at me. His green eyes, usually so warm and charming in front of others, are unreadable now.

His jaw tenses. “Why do you always do this, Sol?”

My stomach twists. “I’m just not feeling—”

“Oh, you’re not feeling it?” he cuts me off, his voice dropping. “But you were fine inside, right? Laughing, drinking, getting me all hot amd bothered. But the second we’re alone, suddenly you want to stop.”

I shrink back slightly, but his hands don’t let me go.

“I’m just dizzy,” I whisper. “I swear, it’s not—”

His fingers press harder into my waist. Not enough to hurt. Not yet.

“You swear?” His voice is quieter now, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “Then kiss me.”

I blink up at him. “W-what?”

“If it’s not about me, if you’re really just dizzy, then kiss me.”

My pulse pounds in my ears.

I know this game.

If I don’t, I’m rejecting him. And  Tyler doesn’t like rejection.

So I do what I always do.

I give in.

I press my lips to his, barely a brush of contact, but it’s enough. His hands relax, his smirk returning as if nothing happened.

“See?” he murmurs against my mouth. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I swallow down the nausea rising in my throat. “No.”

He kisses my forehead, satisfied. “Good girl.”

Then, as if the moment never happened, he pulls back completely, stretching his arms.

“Let’s head back in. Don’t want people thinking we disappeared.”

I nod numbly. “Yeah.”

He takes my hand, leading me back inside, back into the noise, the people, the act.

And as I step through the doorway, I realize something that terrifies me more than anything else.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to say no to him.

The party is still in full swing when we step back inside. Laughter, music, the smell of alcohol and sweat. It’s overwhelming.

His grip on my hand is firm as he leads me through the crowd.

“Yo, Tyler!” Nick calls from across the room, grinning. “We’re playing kings. You in?”

Tyler smirks. “Hell yeah.”

He glances at me, and I already know what’s coming.

“You coming, baby?” His tone is light, teasing, like I have a choice.

I should say no. My head is still spinning, my stomach uneasy. But I don’t want to push my luck. Not after outside.

So I force a smile. “Sure.”

His smirk deepens, and he pulls me toward the group gathered around a coffee table, cards and drinks scattered across it.

I lower myself onto the couch beside Tyler, pressing my thighs together, my hands folded in my lap. I feel small in this crowd—an outsider in my own life.

Nick shuffles the deck, explaining the rules. Tyler already knows them, so he drapes an arm around my shoulders, relaxed, his fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

I barely register the first few rounds. People laugh, take drinks, pull dares.

Then it’s Tyler’s turn.

He picks a card, reading it aloud. “Choose someone to take a body shot off of you.”

The group erupts in cheers and whistles.

My stomach clenches.

Tyler grins, looking right at me. “Well, that’s obvious.”

All eyes turn to me.

I freeze.

“Oh, come on,” someone laughs. “We all know Solana’s a lightweight. But she can handle one.”

Tyler smirks, tilting his head. “What do you say, baby?”

He says it like it’s a question. Like I have a choice.

I don’t.

I force another smile, even as my hands tremble. “Okay.”

The group cheers as Tyler leans back, pulling his shirt up slightly to expose his abs. Someone hands me the shot, and I take it with shaky fingers.

I hesitate.

Tyler’s eyes darken slightly. Do it.

I lower myself slowly, pressing my lips to his skin just before I take the shot. The tequila burns down my throat, but it’s nothing compared to the way Tyler’s fingers tighten in my hair.

When I sit up, he’s smirking, satisfied.

The group cheers again, already moving on, but Tyler’s lips brush against my ear.

“Good girl.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding.

And I know, deep down, that I just lost another piece of myself.

The night drags on, but I barely feel present. The voices, the music, the laughter—it all blurs together, like I’m watching from behind glass.

Tyler keeps me tucked under his arm, his fingers absentmindedly playing with my hair, tracing patterns on my shoulder. He’s in a good mood now, drinking, laughing, completely at ease.

Because I did what he wanted.

Because I didn’t say no.

At some point, I stop keeping track of time. The alcohol in my system only makes everything feel heavier—the weight of his arm around me, the pressure of expectation, the realization that I don’t know how to stop this.

I feel like I’m drowning.

But Tyler? He’s thriving.

He throws back another shot, flashing his cocky grin at his teammates, at the girls who sneak glances at him when they think I won’t notice.

I always notice.

But what would it change?

“You good, Sol?” Caleb asks suddenly, snapping me back to reality. His tone is light, casual, but his eyes linger on me a second too long.

Before I can answer, Tyler tightens his grip on me. “She’s fine,” he answers for me, smirking. “Aren’t you, baby?”

I nod automatically. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Caleb’s gaze flickers between us, but he doesn’t push. Just lifts his drink and leans back into the couch.

The moment passes.

Tyler relaxes again, satisfied, and the conversation shifts back to the game on Friday, to plays and strategies and who’s coming to the afterparty.

I sit there, silent, staring at my hands.

This night will end like all the others.

Tyler will drink too much, but he’ll still be charming, still be perfect in everyone else’s eyes. I’ll drive us home like nothing happened. He’ll kiss me and touch me and expect me to be the same girl I was when we walked in.

And I’ll let him.

Because I don’t know how not to.

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