Chapter 5
I’m frozen at the door.
It’s him. I would know that voice anywhere.
The Red Mask guy. But this time, I see his face.
I’m not going to lie. I had nightmares that this mystery man was ugly as dirt and that my first orgasm was on some loser’s tongue, but the man standing before me like he’s known exactly who I’ve been all along?
He’s tall. Muscular. Sharp jawline. He’s got dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and this cold, controlled expression like he owns the world. His leather jacket and the expensive clothes scream effortless arrogance. I remember thinking he was tall, but standing here now, somehow, he’s taller.
And he’s at my door.
“I didn’t think you’d miss the party,” he says, his voice a low rasp that sends a jolt through me. “Given that the last one was…”
I blink, my brain catching up. That’s why he’s here.
“I’m busy,” I say, crossing my arms. And then I uncross them because I don’t know what the hell to do with myself.
His blue eyes sweep over me, lingering too long, and I hate it. Hate how my body reacts to just that. A simple look, and I’m wet. This is insane.
He shifts, stepping forward like he’s going to just waltz in.
“Mind if I come in?”
“Actually, yeah, I do. Not really a good time.”
He ignores me. Of course, he does. His eyes do another sweep of my room. Taking it all in—the string lights above my bed, the neat pile of textbooks on my desk, the posters I’ve carefully hung. I’m not some messy college girl with clothes all over the floor. I like things neat. Organized. Unlike the chaos happening in my head right now.
He walks in anyway, brushing past me, like I didn’t even answer. I take a step back because I’m not sure what else to do. I watch him as he casually strolls over to my desk, picks up my phone like it’s his.
“Put that down,” I snap, heart racing.
He smirks but places it back, as if he owns this place, owns me. God, I hate that smirk.
“You should leave,” I say, trying to sound firm, but my voice wavers.
He turns to face me, one brow raised, his smirk widening. “Why? You expecting your boyfriend?”
The fuck?
“How—how do you even know I—” I stutter, genuinely confused. How the hell does he know anything about me? And why the fuck is he here?
He laughs, low and quiet, and it does something weird to my stomach. I try to ignore it, but it’s hard when the sound settles deep inside me, making my nipples hard. Jesus. I fold my arms over my chest, trying to hide it, but I know he notices.
“Who the hell are you?” I finally manage to ask, my voice sharper now.
His laugh cuts through the tension, and I hate how my body responds to it. He steps closer, way too close until his presence is swallowing up the whole room. His voice drops. “You didn’t seem too interested in my name that night. You were busy coming on my tongue.”
My entire face burns. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Get out,” I say, adjusting my glasses to cover up my panic, pushing them up my nose even though they don’t need adjusting.
He doesn’t leave. Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, his hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and I freeze.
“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. I liked it. Liked watching you fall apart for me. And I know you liked being a little slut for me too.”
What the fuck.
I jerk my head away, stepping back. “Leave. Now.” I grit out, guilt and shame flooding my system all at once.
His eyes linger on me for a second longer, like he’s debating something. Then he shrugs, all casual. “Okay. But we’ll see each other again.”
“I doubt it.” My voice is stronger now, but inside, I’m shaking.
He laughs again, the sound even cockier than before. “We’ll see.” Then he turns and walks out of the room like it’s no big deal like he’s leaving because he wants to , not because I’m telling him to.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I let out a shaky breath. My whole body’s trembling, my head spinning. What the actual fuck just happened?
I sink down onto my bed, my knees suddenly too weak to hold me up.
The air’s still thick with him. His scent lingers—leather, something sharp and masculine—and I can’t shake it.
I stare blankly at the door, my mind a mess of guilt, shame, and something way darker that I don’t want to admit.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I should be calling Colin, telling him how much I miss him, how I love him. But instead, all I can think about is him —the Red Mask Guy. His unmasked face right before mine. His touch. His voice. The way he looked at me like he wanted more .
I shouldn’t have let him in. I shouldn’t have... But now all I can do is replay it in my head. His smirk. The cocky way he said I’d see him again. It’s like he’s still here, still in the room with me, watching.
My fingers twitch at my sides, and before I even realize what I’m doing, they slide down, under the waistband of my shorts. God . I bite my lip, eyes closing, remembering the way he made me feel, how fast he got me wet, how intense everything was when I was with him. It’s fucking insane.
My fingers circle slowly, and I arch into my hand, my breath catching as pleasure builds. It’s sick, twisted even, but I can’t stop. I picture him—the way he looked at me, the dirty, rough things he’d say if he were here.
But then, Colin.
My eyes fly open, my hand jerking out of my shorts like I’ve been burned. What the fuck am I doing?
Colin loves me. He’s good, kind, everything I think I want. We’ve been planning a future together since we were kids. I think back to our first kiss when we were twelve, standing awkwardly by the swings at the park, his face red, mine probably even worse. He was so gentle, so sweet, and when his lips brushed mine, it felt like the start of everything.
He’s always been there for me. Always.
I wipe at my face, realizing I’m crying, hating myself for it. What kind of person am I?
I grab my phone and call him, my heart pounding—not from excitement but from dread.
It rings twice before I hear his groggy voice. “Hey, Remy.”
My voice catches. “Can I come over?”
There’s a pause, then a soft sigh. “It’s late. I’m really tired, but the door’s open if you want.”
I hang up, my hands shaking as I move to the bathroom. I scrub every inch of my skin, like I’m trying to wash him off me, the Red Mask guy, every trace of him. I shampoo my hair twice, just in case, then step out, wrapping a towel around myself as I stare into the mirror.
I hate what I see. My eyes are red and puffy. My face pale. I look like a mess.
I pull on a pair of leggings, a hoodie—one of Colin’s, actually, because I need to feel like his again—and request an Uber to his place. When I get there, the door’s locked, but I don’t even need to knock. The spare key is always under the rock by the steps. I slip inside quietly, like I’ve done a hundred times before.
Familiar.
Everything about this place is familiar—the creak in the hallway floor, the way the lights dim when you turn them on too fast, the soft hum of the TV downstairs.
I push open his bedroom door, and there he is, half-asleep in bed, his hair messy, his glasses on the nightstand. “Hey, baby,” he mumbles, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Didn’t expect you.”
“I missed you,” I say, forcing a smile as I walk toward him. It’s not a lie. I did miss him. I always do. But right now, it feels like I’m drowning in guilt.
He smiles back, all sleepy and cute, and reaches up to pull my glasses off my face. “I miss you too.”
I straddle him, my hands slipping around his neck as I press my lips to his, kissing him like I need to prove something, to myself or to him. His lips are soft, familiar, but I push harder, kissing his neck, grinding against him like I’m trying to get lost in this.
“Remy,” he chuckles softly, gripping my waist, stopping me. “Slow down, baby. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I lie, shaking my head, but my hands are already moving, sliding down his chest, slipping under the waistband of his pants. I want to feel him, to erase everything from earlier.
He catches my hand before I can get any further, his grip gentle but firm. “Hey, hey. What’s gotten into you? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but... this isn’t like you.”
I stop, staring at him. His eyes are soft and concerned, and I feel like the worst person on the planet.
“You’re beautiful, Remy,” he says, his voice so damn tender it makes my chest ache. “You know I want you, but maybe we press the brakes and we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah... yeah, okay.”
He smiles again, pulling me down to lie next to him, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me close. “I love you,” he whispers, his breath warm against my hair.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, but my voice sounds hollow to my own ears. He’s asleep in minutes, his breathing evening out as he holds me close.
But I’m wide awake. Staring at the ceiling. Tears slipping down my cheeks, staining the pillow under me.
I’m fucking everything up. I’m going to lose Colin. All because I was some stranger’s slut .
And because no matter how much I pretend, I actually liked it.
I wake up in Colin’s bed, his arm draped across my waist, soft snores escaping his lips . I can’t believe last night. My stomach churns with guilt, embarrassment clinging to my skin like sweat. I slide out from under his arm carefully, trying not to wake him. The last thing I need is him asking me what the hell was going on last night. God, what was I thinking?
I tiptoe around his room, grabbing my shoes, then pause at the door. He looks so peaceful, so innocent. Too good for me.
I slip out quietly, the door clicking shut behind me. The Uber ride back to campus feels endless, my mind racing. I lean my forehead against the cool window and try to push the guilt out of my head, but all I can think about is Colin. He’s so sweet, so patient, and last night I tried to use him to erase him. Red Mask guy. The thought makes me sick.
Back at the dorm, I push open the door quietly, expecting an empty room. But instead, I freeze. Caleb is lying in Maya’s bed, his arm slung over her like they just fell asleep cuddling. What the actual fuck?
Something sharp pierces through my chest. I stare at them for a second longer than I should, and Maya’s eyes flutter open. She doesn’t notice me though, just snuggles closer into Caleb. I grab my bag and books as quietly as possible, stuffing them into my backpack.
I head to the library. Focus on studying. Forget everything. Colin. The red masked guy. All of it.
I throw myself into my homework, scribbling notes, reading pages of textbooks that blur together. I’m not going to think about Colin or the guy from last night. This is what I need to do. Focus. No distractions.
And then, out of nowhere, there’s a thud on the table. A box. I blink, looking down at it. It’s the latest iPhone. My head snaps up, and there he is. Red Mask guy. Except his face is exposed, and he’s not in his leather jacket. This time, he’s in a hockey jersey. Number 27.
“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath, staring at him. “Are you stalking me?” I ask, pushing the iPhone box back toward him.
He shrugs, looking completely unfazed. “Nope. Just came to study.”
He sits down across from me like this is the most normal thing in the world, like he didn’t practically ruin my life last night. “Here. This is for you,” he says, nudging the iPhone box back toward me.
I scowl, pushing it back. “I don’t need an iPhone from some random guy who—”
“Remy,” he interrupts, eyes steady on mine. “It’s for you.”
“Why?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
Another shrug. What the hell is his deal?
He doesn’t answer, just pulls out some books and starts reading like this is totally normal. AirPods in, completely ignoring me. I stare at him, my pulse quickening. Is he insane? The fact that he’s so calm about everything is throwing me off. It’s making me feel something I don’t want to admit.
I sneak a glance at his jawline—sharp, tense, like he’s biting back something. His pen taps rhythmically against his temple. He’s handsome in a way that makes my stomach twist, but he also might be a fucking psycho.
Twenty-five minutes pass, maybe more, before he stands up suddenly. “You’re the best study partner I’ve ever had.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I wasn’t even studying with you.”
He just smirks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “See you around, Remy.”
I watch him walk away, my eyes drifting to the name on the back of his jersey— Coburn. It’s only after he’s gone that I notice the iPhone still sitting on the table. Asshole.
I shove it into my bag before anyone else can see it and leave the library. I don’t even know why I took it, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave it there. It feels like a ticking time bomb.
When I get back to my dorm, Caleb’s gone, but Maya’s sitting on her bed, looking like hell. She’s sipping coffee and barely opens her eyes when I walk in.
“Where were you?” she asks, voice rough from sleep.
I hesitate, dropping my bag by the door. “Uh, Colin’s last night. And then the library this morning.”
Maya raises an eyebrow, her face pale. “You missed the rager. It was wild. Caleb’s going to be paying for it all week.”
I fake a smile, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Yeah, well, you guys looked cozy this morning.”
She groans, covering her face with her hand. “Oh God. Don’t remind me. We just fell asleep. Nothing’s going on.”
“Right.” I nod.
I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to clear my head. I can’t deal with this. Not right now.
Instead, I pull out the iPhone from my bag, staring at it. Brand new. The thought of keeping it feels wrong. But at the same time, he left it. Maybe this is some kind of weird game for him, but it’s not like I asked for it.
Maya looks over at me, frowning when she sees the box. “What’s that?”
“Um,” I say quickly, shoving it under my pillow. It’s definitely something. And I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do about it.
Coburn.
There’s no way I’m keeping this thing without figuring out what the hell is going on. I sit up, looking over at Maya who’s still nursing her coffee, looking half-dead. If anyone knows who this guy is, it’s going to be her. Caleb’s on the team, so she’s bound to know something.
“So,” I start, trying to keep my voice casual. “Do you know anyone with the last name Coburn?”
Maya glances up, blinking like she’s coming out of a daze. “Coburn? Yes, why?”
“Who is he?” I ask, trying not to sound too interested. Except I am.
Maya sits up straighter now, frowning like she’s trying to piece something together. “Zane Coburn. He’s the captain of the Ravens. Why? What’s going on?”
Zane. I swallow, my stomach doing this weird flip. Of course, he’s the captain. He has that cocky arrogance to him, and it makes perfect sense.
I hesitate for a second, wondering if I should even tell her. But then the words just tumble out. “Okay, um... so, remember that night at the Reaper Brotherhood’s initiation party? The one where I told you I met some guy in a red mask?”
Maya nods slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah… you said it was just some random dude.”
“Well,” I take a deep breath, my hands tightening around the iPhone, “it wasn’t just some random dude. It was Zane. He’s the guy in the red mask. We… uh… we walked into the woods together and... he, uh, went down on me.”
Maya screeches so loud I’m pretty sure the entire dorm hears her. “WHAT?!”
“Shhh!” I glance at the door, my heart pounding. “Can you not scream?”
Maya’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Remy, are you fucking serious? You’re telling me the captain of the goddamn hockey team, the most private guy on campus, went down on you at the Reaper party?”
I nod, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Yeah, I guess.”
Maya is losing her mind. She’s practically bouncing on her bed now. “Holy shit! How do you know it was him? Like, for real?”
“He showed up here last night, and then today at the library,” I say, my voice dropping. “He dropped this iPhone on the table, told me it’s for me, and then just sat there. Like a psycho.”
Maya’s mouth falls open. “Wait, wait, wait. He came to see you? Remy, this is a big deal! Zane doesn’t show his face to anyone. The dude’s like a fucking ghost. No one really knows if he’s the leader of the Reapers or just… like… some hockey god. But if he’s showing up to give you shit and making it obvious it’s him? That’s major.”
I blink, trying to process everything she’s saying. “Major? Maya, I have a boyfriend. This is not ‘major.’ This is weird. And also, I don’t want anything to do with him. He looks like trouble.”
Maya rolls her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. Trouble is fun, Remy. You’re with Colin, the world’s safest bet. Maybe it’s time you lived a little.”
“I’m not trying to ‘live a little,’” I snap, pacing around the room. “I’m not trying to get involved with some guy who’s known for hooking up with random girls.”
Maya raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to be on his roster? That’s what this is about?”
“Exactly,” I say, feeling the anger rise in my chest. “I don’t want to be just another hookup.”
“Maybe you’re not,” Maya says, shrugging. “You said he came to see you, right? He’s giving you phones and shit. Zane Coburn doesn’t just give anyone attention. The fact that he showed up here looking for you… it means something.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care what it means. I’m not doing this. He’s probably just messing with me.”
Maya leans back against the wall, smirking. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but I’ve seen that look before. You’re interested. And trust me, Zane Coburn doesn’t lose.”
I glare at her. “I’m not interested.”
“Yeah, okay,” she says, clearly not buying it. “Whatever you say.”
I toss the iPhone back into my bag, trying to calm down. “I don’t want to get involved with him. Colin is good for me. We’ve been together forever. And I don’t need chaos in my life.”
Maya snorts. “Look, I’m not saying you should go and dump Colin, but just... consider having a little fun. Zane’s hot, he’s into you, and he’s obviously not gonna back off.”
I sigh, collapsing onto my bed. “Fun always turns into drama with guys like him. And I’m not in the mood for that. It’s not my style.”
Maya laughs. “Drama’s part of the package, babe. You’ve gotta take the good with the bad.”
“Not this time,” I say, shaking my head. “Zane Coburn feels like too much trouble. Way too much.”
Maya gives me a knowing smile. “Well, if you change your mind… I’ll be here for the front-row seat to the Zane and Remy show.”
I groan and pull a pillow over my face. “I swear, you’re the worst.”
She cackles. “You’re welcome.”
As I lay there, pillow over my face, trying to block out the world, all I can think about is those piercing blue eyes and the way he looked at me last night. Fuck.
This is going to be a problem.
A huge one.
The next day, I sit in the same spot, staring at the table. Maybe he won’t show up today. Maybe this whole thing was a one-time deal. Maybe Zane Coburn has better things to do than bother me.
But that’s not how it goes.
I hear him before I see him. The low, confident drawl sends a shiver— no, not a shiver— a freaking annoying jolt of awareness through my body.
“Hey, baby.”
The nickname causes me to panic. He slides into the chair across from me, all casual like we’re a thing, like he didn’t just drop out of nowhere into my life and ruin my peace.
I look up, my fingers tightening around the pen in my hand. I chew my lip nervously and then I ask, “Why are you bothering me?”
Zane smirks, leaning back like he owns the place. “If you wanted to sit with someone else, you would have. But you’re here, and here I am. So, clearly, you wanted to see me. You enjoy spending time with me, don’t you slut? ”
I roll my eyes ignoring the flutter in my chest. “You’ve got issues, and I am not a slut.”
He grins wider, his eyes sparkling like this is all some sick game to him. Which it probably is.
Reaching into my bag, I pull out the phone he gave me and toss it onto the table. “Take it back. I don’t need it.”
He glances at the phone, then at me. “It’s yours.”
“I have a phone.”
Zane raises a brow, feigning surprise. “Oh yeah?”
I nod, pulling my own phone out of my pocket and holding it up. “See? Very functional, actually. I don’t need a new one.”
Before I can even process what’s happening, his hand darts out, grabbing my phone right out of my hand.
“Hey! Give it back, Zane!” I hiss, but it’s too late.
“Oh, so you know my name now?”
“I’m serious, Zane,” I say a little louder.
A couple of people nearby shush me, but I don’t care. I reach for my phone, but he’s too quick, pulling it just out of my grasp, and keeping his damn eyes locked on mine the whole time. Then, as if he hasn’t already proven himself to be the world’s biggest jerk, he drops it on the floor.
And stomps on it with his boot.
The sound of glass cracking fills the quiet space, and my heart stops. My brain is stuck between shock and disbelief as I stare at the shattered remains of my phone.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I whisper, standing up, my voice tight. People glance over again, but I don’t care. “That was my fucking phone! My mom saved up to buy me that!”
Zane doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. He just stares at me, calm as ever, like this is all part of his twisted plan.
“That one was shit,” he says casually, leaning back in his chair again. “You’ve got a better one now.”
I don’t even have words. I just grab my stuff and leave. I can’t deal with this right now. I don’t even want to be near him.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I fight my tears.
Colin would never treat me like this.
I should not let anyone treat me like this.
I’m still fuming when I get back to my room that evening. My hands are shaking, my head is spinning with what just happened. Who the hell does that?
I pace for a while, too angry to even sit down, too pissed to think straight. Every time I replay it in my head, I want to throw something. Hard. Maybe at his head. What kind of guy just smashes a girl’s phone because he feels like it? A psycho, that’s who.
Eventually, I force myself to sit on my bed and just breathe. I need to let it go. I’ll just get another phone. Somehow. Even though I don’t have the money right now.
But when I look up, I see something on my bed.
A box.
No fucking way.
It’s sitting right in the middle of my comforter, neatly placed like it’s been waiting for me. Next to it? AirPods. And I’m already pissed because I know exactly who left it here.
I grab the box, flipping it over, and that’s when I see the scribbled words. Taylor Swift lyrics. I read it out loud to myself, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “‘ I swear I don’t love the drama, it loves me. ’”
He listened to Taylor Swift?
My jaw clenches. I rip open the box, knowing exactly what’s inside.
The phone. Only now, I notice something else.
It’s red. Just like the mask he wore that night.
I hate how my heart skips a beat at that thought. I hate that it reminds me of that night in the woods when I didn’t know who he was, when everything was dark and exciting and... yeah, no.
I shake off the memory and stare at the phone. I should throw it away. I should. But I can’t.
With a deep breath, I turn it on, my fingers hovering over the screen. As soon as it powers up, I see a contact already programmed into it.
Your favorite dick.
My mouth drops open. He’s un-fucking-believable. How does he even think this is okay? How does he think this is some cute game?
I toss the phone on my bed, grab my pillow, and scream into it.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this?
Because now that he’s left me no choice, I might actually have to use the damn phone.
The next morning, I’m back at the library because apparently, I have a death wish. I don’t even know why I’m here. It’s like some part of me is waiting for him to show up again, just so I can tell him off properly.
I sit in my usual spot, trying to concentrate on the notes in front of me, but my mind is still reeling from last night. From the smashed phone. From the new one he left. From the fucking AirPods.
God, he’s such a dick.
I hear the chair scrape against the floor before I see him.
Of course.
“Morning, baby,” Zane says, settling across from me like he owns the place. Again.
I grit my teeth, refusing to look up. “Don’t call me that.”
He chuckles. “Why not? You liked it the other night.”
I freeze, my hand tightening around my pen, but I don’t respond. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
He waits a beat, then adds, “How’s the new phone?”
My head snaps up. “I didn’t ask for it.”
Zane shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You needed it.”
“I don’t need shit from you.”
He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looks at me with that infuriating smirk. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Dead serious.”
I shake my head, trying to keep my voice steady. “You broke my phone, Zane. That phone meant a lot to me. And you just smashed it like it was nothing.”
His smirk falters for a second, but then it’s back. “You needed a better one. Now you have it.”
I stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell his deal is. Is he really this much of a narcissist, or is there something deeper going on? Either way, I don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.
“I don’t want your phone,” I say quietly, pushing it back toward him.
Zane’s hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist before I can pull away. His grip is firm but not painful, and for some reason, the contact sends a spark through me.
“Use it,” he says, his voice low and serious now. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
I stare at him, my heart racing in my chest, but I force myself to keep calm. “Why are you doing this?”
He tilts his head, his eyes studying me like I’m some kind of puzzle he’s trying to figure out. “Because you’re interesting.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Interesting? You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he says, his grip on my wrist loosening slightly. “And I want to know more.”
“Well, I don’t want to know you.”
Zane smirks again, releasing my wrist and leaning back in his chair. “We’ll see about that.”
I stand up, grab my bag, and sling it over my shoulder. “I’m done with this conversation.”
As I turn to leave, I hear him call after me, his voice lazy and confident. “I’ll see you later, Remy. Don’t lose that phone.”
I don’t even bother responding. I walk out of the library, my pulse racing and my mind spinning. I don’t know what the hell Zane Coburn’s deal is, but I do know one thing. I’m in way over my head.
I walk out of my clinical psychology class, the usual headache starting to creep up behind my eyes. It’s been a long day. I passed my test, which is great, but something’s off. I took the time during the class to transfer all the things from my iCloud and downloaded it onto this new phone. I double check that I have everything I need and even my text messages from my broken phone transfer over. Thank god.
My mom sounded sick earlier when I called. She brushed it off, said she was fine, but she didn’t sound like herself. I’d feel better if Colin checked in on her, so I dial him while walking to the campus exit.
“Hey, babe,” Colin picks up on the second ring. His voice is calm, warm—just what I need right now.
“Hey. What are you doing?” I ask, trying to sound casual even though my stomach is in knots.
“Just studying.”
“Can you do me a favor? Can you go check on my mom? She sounded a little off earlier, and I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Of course, babe. I’ll head over now.”
“Thanks, I’ll be home soon.” I hesitate. “Colin?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Remy. We’ll talk when I get to your mom’s, okay?”
I hang up, feeling a little more at ease, but there’s still that nagging worry sitting in my chest. I tuck my phone back into my bag and make my way to the next class, already counting down the minutes until I can leave.
By the time I get out of class, my phone buzzes with a text from Colin.
Colin: Your mom’s fine, she’s just sleeping. I’ll make us dinner. Anything you want?
I bite my lip. Guilt creeps up, making my fingers pause before typing.
Remy: You don’t have to cook. I can pick up pizza on the way over.
Colin: Nonsense. I’ll cook.
I smile at the phone, appreciating Colin’s effort to take care of everything. He really is the perfect boyfriend. I put the phone back in my bag, trying not to dwell on the fact that the perfect boyfriend shouldn’t feel like a burden sometimes.
When I walk into my mom’s house, the smell of grilled sandwiches fills the air, and there’s Colin in the kitchen, wearing one of those ridiculous aprons he insists makes him a better cook.
“Hey,” he greets me with a smile, leaning in for a kiss.
I kiss him back, feeling the weight of the day start to lift just a little.
“How’s my mom?” I ask, heading straight for her room.
“Still asleep,” he says. “But she looks fine. Just tired.”
I peek into her room, and sure enough, she’s curled up in bed, looking peaceful. I feel a small wave of relief wash over me.
Back in the kitchen, Colin slides a sandwich onto a plate and hands it to me. “Turkey and avocado. You’re welcome.”
“You’re too good to me,” I say, taking a bite. It’s delicious, as always.
He sits down across from me, chewing thoughtfully for a second before speaking. “Can we talk about the other night?”
I freeze for a second, swallowing hard before nodding. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Colin. I just—school’s been really stressful, and I guess it’s getting to me.”
He reaches out, cupping my cheek. “Remy, you can talk to me about anything. I’m always here for you, okay?”
I give him a weak smile. “I know. I just... I didn’t want to worry you.”
“That’s ridiculous. You never have to worry about that,” he says softly, and for a second, I almost believe it.
Almost.
Then my phone starts buzzing, and the brief moment of peace is shattered. I pull it out, glancing at the screen.
Your favorite dick is calling.
Panic hits me fast. I hit the button to silence the call, but my hands are shaky. The phone buzzes again. Another call. I hang up, trying to act like it’s no big deal, but my heart’s racing.
Colin frowns. “Who’s that?”
“Uh, just my roommate. She has no boundaries.” I giggle awkwardly. “No, uh, we just have this thing, and she wanted to hang out later, but she can wait.”
He eyes the phone suspiciously, then looks back at me. “You’ve got the latest phone now?”
“Oh… yeah.” I try to laugh, but it comes out even more awkward than before. “My old one died. Maya gave me her extra one.”
Colin raises an eyebrow. “The same roommate who’s calling you now?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Maya.”
The phone buzzes again. This time, texts start rolling in.
Your favorite dick: Where are you, Remy?
Your favorite dick: How was your test?
Your favorite dick: Did you lose your phone again? Told you to use this one.
Your favorite dick: Remy?
And then the one that makes my blood run cold.
Your favorite dick: Answer me, Little slut.
I shove the phone into my bag, hoping Colin didn’t see the texts. Fucking Zane.
Colin’s eyes are on me, and I can tell he’s trying to put pieces together. “You sure everything’s okay?”
I force a smile. “Yeah. Just... roommate stuff, you know? She once had a traumatic day with her friend group because they couldn’t decide between a Taylor Swift concert and an Olivia Rodrigo concert.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he leans in and kisses me gently on the forehead. “Okay. Sounds weird but whatever. Rich people problems.”
I nod, feeling my stomach twist with guilt. I hate lying to Colin, but what the hell am I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, this psycho who seems to have a sick obsession with me just gave me a new phone and won’t stop texting me. Oh, and did I mention that technically, he licked my pussy and I thoroughly enjoyed it and fantasize about it now?
Yeah, no. That’ll go over well.
We finish our sandwiches in silence, and I try to ignore the nagging feeling that this whole thing with Zane is going to blow up in my face sooner or later.
Later that night, I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell to do about the Zane situation. My phone buzzes again, and I glance at it reluctantly.
More texts from him.
Your favorite dick: Do you miss me?
Your favorite dick: I know you’re thinking about me.
Your favorite dick: Don’t ignore me, baby. You’re not going to like what happens when you do.
I grit my teeth, feeling my anger rise. I don’t know how much longer I can take this. He’s fucking relentless.
Another buzz.
Your favorite dick: You looked beautiful today.
I sit up in bed, heart racing. How the fuck does he know what I was wearing?
That’s it. I’m done with this bullshit.
I grab the phone, typing furiously.
Remy: Leave me the fuck alone, Zane.
Your favorite dick: That’s too fucking bad
I throw the phone across the room, the screen glowing in the dark like some kind of sick taunt. I don’t know what his deal is, but I’m not about to let him drag me down with whatever twisted game he’s playing.
But deep down, I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.