Chapter 7
Sitting in the dim kitchen, I grip my mug of tea, my eyes still gritty from a night of tossing and turning. Sleep refused to find me, thanks to a certain someone and everything we’d done. Every time I closed my eyes, it was him—Zane, his voice, his hands. The way he looked at me like he owned me, like I had no say in the matter. I shake my head, focusing on the steam curling from my mug.
It’s not like I could talk to anyone about this. Not Maya, not my mom. And now, here she comes, her coat still on, her face pale and tired from a long night shift.
“Morning, sweetie.” She sets her bag down and looks at me, tilting her head. “How are you?”
I shrug, avoiding her gaze. “Busy with school.” I smile.
She nods, her eyes narrowing a bit as if she’s trying to read me. I stir my tea, staring at the spoon like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. I hate lying to her, but what else can I say?
“Listen,” I say quietly, keeping my eyes on my mug. “Would it be okay if I stayed home for a while instead of at the dorms? You know, to help out and… be around more?”
My mom reaches over, patting my hand. “Oh, honey, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Really.”
I look up, catching the lines near her eyes, the ones that seem a little deeper every time I see her. She’s getting older, worn down from all the work and long shifts. And I’m here, asking if I can stay home to help, but it feels like it’s never enough. I wish there was something I could do, some way to make things better.
She takes a sip of her tea, giving me a warm smile. “Go live your life, Remy. I’ll be alright.”
I force a smile back, but inside, guilt twists tight.
The next day, I walk into the school’s courtyard, and there’s Maya, practically sprinting over. She throws her arms around me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
“Remy!” she squeals, bouncing a bit. “I missed you so much!”
I laugh, patting her back. “Missed you too, Maya. Seriously, it feels like forever.”
She links her arm through mine, dragging me toward the cafeteria. We grab lunch, chatting and laughing about classes and gossip we’ve missed out on. It’s a relief, having a bit of normalcy, something that’s not constantly pulling me back into thoughts of Zane and… whatever spell he has me under.
But of course, normalcy doesn’t last long.
Just as we’re finishing up lunch, I catch sight of Caleb and Zane heading our way. Caleb’s eyes zero in on Maya, and before I know it, he’s pulling her into a kiss, one of those overly possessive ones. She melts into him, and I’m left awkwardly sitting there with Zane staring at me from across the table.
He gives me that look, the one that says he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Then, he winks.
My face goes hot, and I stand up abruptly, grabbing my things. “I… I’ve got to get to class.”
Zane’s already moving, falling into step beside me before I can escape.
“I’ll walk with you.”
I glance at him, gritting my teeth. “Stay away from me, Zane.”
He leans in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I wish I could, little slut.”
My stomach twists, anger sparking up and spreading fast. But he’s already walking away, leaving me there, words stuck in my throat. I walk into the lecture hall and settle down.
Sitting in class, I tap my pen against my notebook, eyes drifting back to the professor’s slide. Cellular respiration—something I should be able to wrap my head around if I could just focus. Notes fill the page, my handwriting scribbled, each line a little more haphazard than the last.
I’m actually getting it, surprisingly. The whole process is starting to connect, like one big biological puzzle, piece by piece. I half-smile to myself, feeling that rare little spark of confidence as I write down another note. Maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe I can manage without getting sidetracked by thoughts of a certain someone.
The professor wraps up, dismissing us, and the class filters out slowly. I gather my stuff, watching through the window as rain pelts down in sheets. Seriously? The forecast didn’t mention a monsoon.
Outside, I huddle under the awning, clutching my books to my chest. My first instinct is to call Colin, but things have been so awkward lately. He’s barely around, and when he is, it’s like he’s miles away. I pull out my phone, hesitating, and then the loud hum of an engine makes me look up.
A sleek sports car pulls up in front of me, headlights cutting through the downpour. Black, polished to perfection, the kind of car that screams money. The window rolls down, and I blink, surprised as hell.
Zane.
“You gonna stand there all day?” he calls out, one eyebrow raised, like he’s amused by my shock.
I cross my arms, glaring. “I’m getting an Uber.”
“Yeah? Thought I just saved you the trouble.” He smirks, tilting his head toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”
I shake my head, rain starting to soak through my jacket. “No thanks, I’ll wait for my ride.”
His eyes narrow, and he leans closer to the window. “You sure? ‘Cause I’m about two seconds from getting out, picking you up, and throwing you into the car myself.”
I swallow, glancing at the heavy rain. The last thing I want is to draw more attention, especially with Zane. Sighing, I walk around to the passenger side, sliding in before he can make good on his threat.
The seat is warm—so warm it sends a bit of relief up my back. He doesn’t look over at me right away, just reaches for his phone, flicking through playlists before he hits play. Soft guitar fills the car, a familiar tune, and I glance over, raising an eyebrow.
“Taylor Swift?” I say, unable to hide a smirk.
He shrugs. “Figured it’d make you less… grumpy.” He glances over, catching the corner of my smile. “Look at that, it worked.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I settle into the seat, trying to ignore the way my lips twitch up. “Still don’t like being seen with you.”
“Oh, trust me, I know,” he says, smirk growing. “But here you are.”
The rain pounds against the windows as we drive, a steady, heavy sound. Zane stays quiet, his gaze fixed on the road, and I find myself glancing over at him, catching the slight shadows under his eyes. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t slept in days. Dark circles hint at exhaustion he’s trying to hide, and I bite my lip, debating if I should ask.
“Are you… How are you?”
He smirks, side-glancing at me. “Careful, Remy, or I’ll start thinking you actually give a damn.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “Don’t be a dick.”
He just laughs, though it’s softer than usual. We pull up outside of Hollister Hall, and he kills the engine, turning to face me, eyes studying my face with an intensity that makes my pulse spike.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low, coaxing. “Can you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning?”
I blink, caught off guard. “Uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “Or I’ll be forced to climb into your house tonight and…”
I gasp, smacking a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say another word, Zane.”
He chuckles, licking my hand just to mess with me. I yank it away, wiping it on my jacket, and he grabs it, bringing it to his lips. His eyes meet mine as he kisses my palm, slow, deliberate.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Remy,” he says softly, his gaze holding mine. “Just coffee. A public place. Promise we’ll keep it… decent.”
I hesitate, the weight of his stare pressing into me, and finally, I nod. “Fine, but just coffee… as friends.”
His grin spreads, warm and satisfied. “Goodnight, Remy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With one last lingering look, he watches me as I step out into the rain.
The coffee shop is tucked away like some well-kept secret, wedged between a bookstore and a little bakery. From the outside, it looks unassuming—just a simple wooden sign with “Mocha & Mischief” scrawled in a loopy font. But inside, it’s warm, cozy, with old armchairs and the faintest scent of cinnamon hanging in the air. The walls are covered in book pages, plastered there like a collage, some quotes scribbled on them in neat black marker. It’s weirdly charming, like stepping into someone’s quirky living room.
I tug on the sleeve of my oversized sweater, fiddling with the loose threads at the cuffs, trying to stay warm. My fingers are fidgeting as I push my glasses up and glance around. Zane asked me to meet him here, which feels random—thirty minutes out from my place by cab, in a coffee shop I’ve never heard of before. Typical Zane move, pulling me halfway across town without a word why.
I’m wearing leggings and my favorite old sneakers that look like they’ve been through hell. The sweater I threw on has a big, cartoonish drawing of two characters from a romance series, looking all lovey-dovey on the front. It’s goofy, and maybe a little embarrassing, but whatever—it’s warm.
“Hey there,” a voice interrupts my sweater-picking, and I look up to see the barista smiling at me. He’s got blond curls and a piercing in his nose, a grin that’s more welcoming than flirty, which is actually refreshing. His name tag reads “Aaron.”
“Hi,” I say, returning his smile. “Can I just get a, uh… latte, I guess? Extra foam.”
“Coming right up.” He glances down at my sweater, grin widening. “No way. You’re a Storms of Passion fan?”
“Uh, guilty,” I laugh, feeling the slightest bit of warmth rush to my cheeks. “You actually know that series?”
“Are you kidding? Tessa and Brant? I live for that angst. ‘No one hurts me like you do, and yet…’” He breaks off, doing a melodramatic swoon, which cracks me up.
“Oh my god, that line,” I say, groaning. “It’s so dramatic it’s almost painful, but I love it.”
He laughs, and it’s nice. Easy. I start to feel more at home here when the door swings open, and my whole body goes tense. I turn to see Zane stepping in, his gaze flicking around the place until it lands on me. He’s in a black leather jacket, jeans, and a dark shirt that hugs him in all the right places. There’s a smile on his face—an easy, crooked one that dies the second he spots Aaron.
Zane strides over, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the barista still laughing with me. Without a word, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me in, leaning down to press his lips against mine in a kiss that’s way too much for a public place. I blink, surprised, but… not exactly hating it.
“Hi,” I murmur when he pulls back, my heart doing a weird skip.
“Hey.” He’s still got that arm around me, like he’s staking a claim, and his eyes are locked onto Aaron, who’s just kind of awkwardly standing there, looking between us. Zane’s mouth twitches. “You were saying?”
Aaron clears his throat, a little taken aback. “Uh… latte. Extra foam, right?”
“That’d be perfect,” I say, my voice a little breathless. Zane just keeps staring at him, lips pressed into a smug little smile. Aaron finally turns back to the counter, muttering something about the drink.
“What the hell was that?” I mutter, shoving him lightly once Aaron’s out of earshot. “Are you trying to mark your territory or something?”
He just shrugs, totally unbothered. “Is it a problem?”
“Yes, it is,” I hiss, trying not to make a scene. “I’m not yours, you know.”
He leans down, his mouth right by my ear, and whispers, “I don’t like other guys thinking you’re available, Remy. You’re mine.”
“Actually I’m not. I am being friendly with you because you keep insisting to see me, and you seem to conveniently forget that I have a boyfriend.” I cross my arms, but it’s like I can still feel his arm around me, even though he’s let go. “I’m not some… possession, Zane.”
He smirks, completely unfazed. “Sure you’re not. But you’re not exactly putting up a fight right now, are you?”
I roll my eyes, even as warmth creeps into my stomach. “You’re out of control.”
“Maybe,” he says, sliding into the chair next to mine. “But I’m right.”
Aaron comes back, setting down my latte with a shaky smile. Zane gives him a dismissive nod, and Aaron quickly disappears behind the counter, probably praying for his shift to end.
“Was that really necessary?” I whisper, sipping my latte as Zane leans back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Yep.” He reaches over, steals my cup, and takes a sip before I can even react.
I shake my head. “I will never meet you for coffee ever again.”
He raises a brow. “We’ll see about that.”
I don’t bother arguing. Instead, I sigh, setting my bag on the table. “Okay, so why are we here? You dragged me all the way across town for… what, exactly?”
His expression shifts, softening a little as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small flash drive. He holds it out to me, and I stare at it, confused.
“What’s this?”
“Your data,” he says, handing it to me. “Since I was the one who destroyed your phone, I figured I’d get the info from it and put it on here.”
I blink, shock settling in. Once the iCloud storage downloaded everything it could remember, it didn’t transfer over at least a third of my info, so this… this makes me happy. “Wait… you… got everything back?”
“Yeah.” He looks a little sheepish, almost, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… felt bad, alright?”
“Zane…” My voice trails off, and before I can think better of it, I throw my arms around him, hugging him tight. He’s warm, solid, and his hands slowly come up to wrap around me, holding me close.
When I finally pull back, he’s got this soft, almost surprised look on his face. “I could get used to that,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing my cheek. “You should hug me more often.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “You’re insane.”
He grins, that cocky smirk returning. “You’re so damn stubborn. It’s cute.”
“Thanks, Zane… for this. Really.”
He watches me, his expression unreadable.
“Do you like the latte?” he asks.
I nod. “Sure, yeah. It’s good. Aaron must know what he’s doing.”
At that, he reaches over and forces his tongue in my mouth. The wetness sends a jolt through my body. He bites the fuck out of my bottom lip.
“Don’t,” he warns.
I pull back, staring into his eyes. “I’m not something that you can just do whatever the fuck you want to,” I whisper.
“No, but you just want to shove in my face constantly how you’re not mine. But you are.”
He kisses me again, and I stop myself from fighting him. First, I’ll make a scene in this café and second, I’m so turned on that I’ve decided to hate myself.
I pull away, and he’s staring at me dazed.
I whisper, “I’m gonna go.”
He watches me closely, rubbing my palm before leaning back like it’s no problem at all.
“Bye, Remy,” he says, his voice low.
I hesitate for just a second before heading out, my heart doing weird things as I step back into the cool, cloudy morning.
When I get home, my mom’s just coming in the door, looking… ecstatic? I drop my bag by the door, kicking off my sneakers. “Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”
She practically beams at me, dropping her purse on the counter. “Guess who just got promoted?”
“Wait, seriously?” I feel my face break into a grin. “Mom, that’s amazing!”
She nods, her eyes bright. “Yep. Fewer patients, more time off, and a nice bump in pay too. It’s like everything’s finally falling into place.”
I laugh, wrapping her in a hug. “You deserve this. Oh my god. This is great, mom! Congrats.”
“Thanks, honey,” she says, squeezing me back. When she pulls away, she studies me, a little smile on her face. “So… what have you been up to?”
“Oh, uh,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. “Nothing exciting.”
She raises a brow, but thankfully, doesn’t press further. She’s too busy basking in her own excitement, and I’m just relieved to keep my morning with Zane to myself. For now, at least.
Though, I can still feel the way he bit my bottom lip and remember the way he looked at me when I pulled away after kissing him back.
This is dangerous territory I’m stepping into.