Chapter 16 Lexi
Lexi
Ihaven’t heard from Koa since I crawled into his lap and acted completely out of character.
I’ve never done that before—thrown myself at someone like that, touched them so deliberately, watched them unravel under my hands. But remembering the look in his eyes when I straddled him, when I made him swallow that lump in his throat, feels empowering. Intoxicating, even.
The control I had over him in that moment is addicting. That’s exactly why I’m not chasing him now. I don’t text first. Don’t beg for his attention. Don’t check my phone every five minutes to see if he’s reached out.
I also know he’s busy. And honestly? I’d rather not know what he’s doing. What he does—selling, distributing, whatever clinical term he wants to use for ruining lives—it’s not something I can mentally comprehend. Or handle.
So I don’t ask. Don’t think about it. Push it down where all the other uncomfortable truths live.
I’m in the middle of a nap when Thea walks into my dorm room.
“Why are you asleep right now?” She nudges my shoulder, grinning. “You never nap. What happened last night?”
I groan, trying to burrow deeper into my pillow. “Nothing. Go away.”
She laughs and keeps messing with me—poking my ribs, pulling the blanket off. “Come on. Get up.”
“Fine.” I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “I’m up. Happy?”
“Very.” She plops down on the edge of my bed, bouncing slightly. “Guess who I danced with last night?”
“Casper the Friendly Ghost?”
She shoves me. “Nash. He’s so hot, Lex. Like, stupidly hot.”
My stomach drops. “Druggie?”
She shakes her head quickly. Too quickly. “God, I hope not. Doesn’t seem like it. He plays hockey.”
I mock her tone. “Ooh, hockey. That’s cool.”
She pushes me again, laughing. “Shut up. How did it go with your hot-head boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say automatically. “And it went good. He promised to cut Axel off completely.”
Thea pauses, processing. “He’s cutting him off? From?”
“Axel can’t get drugs anywhere. From anyone.”
“Oh, shit.”
I smile despite myself. “I know. I made the right connections. It’s a dream come true.”
Thea laughs, but there’s something hollow in it. “Axel is going to lose his shit.”
“For sure. Oh!” I shift to face her. “Did you hear anything back about the dorm switch?”
She huffs, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. They’re not allowing it.”
“Damn. What the fuck? I thought you said it was a done deal?”
“So did I. Apparently there’s a waitlist or some bureaucratic bullshit.”
We keep talking, catching up on classes and roommate drama. Thea complains about her TikTok-obsessed roommate. I complain about Scarlett’s weirdness.
Then my phone buzzes.
I glance down at the screen.
Koa: Redo last night?
My heart does something stupid.
Lexi: Dream on.
Koa: Tonight.
Lexi: Sounds like a demand.
Koa: It is.
Lexi: I’m not letting you touch me again.
Koa: We’ll see about that, tiger.
I pause. Stare at the screen.
Lexi: Tiger?
Koa: Crawling on all fours about to devour me last night.
Koa: Tiger.
My face burns. I press my lips together to keep from smiling.
“Why’re you smiling like that?” Thea nudges me, grinning. “Who is it?”
“Shit, am I smiling?” I try to fix my face, force it neutral. “I’m just using him and he’s flirting with me.” I show her the screen.
She reads it, eyebrows rising. “Okay... I think he likes you.”
I smile. Can’t help it. “Doesn’t matter. I need him wrapped around my finger to save my brother. I just need Axel to stay clean. That’s all this is.”
Thea shrugs. “You getting laid in the process is a bonus.”
I shake my head quickly. “I’m not getting laid.”
“Right.” She drags out the word, teasing. But she doesn’t push.
My stomach squeezes at the thought of sleeping with Koa. I haven’t even seen him with his shirt off, but I know his body is ripped. The way he moves, all controlled power. Broad shoulders. So tall. He’s stupidly hot.
I shake my head, clearing the thought.
Not happening. This is business. Control. Nothing more.
That night, I dress strategically.
Baggy jeans that keep my body a mystery. A large t-shirt that hides my curves. If mystery is going to drive him nuts, I will wear the baggiest, loosest clothes I can find.
When I walk out of my dorm building, he’s already there. Leaning against the Charger, arms crossed, looking like every bad decision I’ve ever wanted to make.
“Couldn’t wear something else?” he asks, eyeing me up and down with obvious disapproval.
I smile, proud of myself. “Not when I get a reaction like that.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t argue. Just opens the passenger door for me.
We pull out of the parking lot, and he races off campus. Fast. Too fast.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, glancing over at him.
He’s dressed in all black—black jeans, black hoodie, black boots. I glance around the car, suddenly nervous. Shit. Is this another forest activity where I have to run for my life and get spanked?
“You’ll see.”
Shortly after, we roll up to a bar. There are motorcycles lined up outside, leather-clad bikers smoking by the entrance. My stomach drops.
“Is this a strip club?” I ask.
He doesn’t look amused. “No.”
“Are you stripping for me?”
“The only one stripping tonight is you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah.” He grabs a black backpack from the back seat. “I’m going to drum your panties off.”
“Drum my...what?”
He smirks now, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”
I watch him with the backpack, heart racing. My mind immediately goes to the worst place. Is this a pit stop? Are we making a drug run? Is he going to make me watch him do business?
“You coming?” he asks, already halfway to the door.
I scramble out of the car. “They’re not going to let me in there. I’m eighteen.”
He looks back at me, amused. “Do you know who you’re talking to? Come on.”
Now I really wish I wasn’t dressed like this.
He takes my cold hand and pulls me through the entrance. The bouncer nods at him, doesn’t even check IDs. We weave through the crowd—bodies packed tight, music thumping, the smell of beer and sweat thick in the air.
There’s a band setting up on stage, testing the microphone.
“There he is!” a girl shouts into the mic.
She’s our age, maybe a year or two older than me. Honey-brown hair, tight jeans, a crop top that shows her midriff. She pushes the mic aside and smiles widely at Koa.
“Everybody, this is Koa. The drummer I told you guys about.” She gestures dramatically. “Koa, we are so happy you’re here to try out for the band.”
The guy with the guitar nods. “Let’s see what you got, man.”
Koa turns to me and kisses the top of my hair.
I stand there, dumbfounded. What the hell is happening right now?
He walks up to the stage, unzips the backpack I thought held drugs, and pulls out two drumsticks.
Drumsticks.
He throws the bag aside and sits at the drums, looking at me the entire time.
My heart is racing. Is he serious? This man—this terrifying, violent, drug-dealing man—can play the drums? He can play music? Hold a melody?
What the fuck?
He does a few test rounds, twirling the sticks, adjusting the cymbals. I watch in awe as his hands move with confidence.
The girl at the microphone is laughing, nodding her head enthusiastically. “Fuck yeah!” She points at Koa. “So fucking happy you made it. You ready, party people? We’re only doing covers.”
The bar gets quiet as she addresses the crowd. I can’t hear what she’s saying because Koa is staring at me, rolling the drumstick in his hand like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Then I hear her say, “To get this drummer out here tonight, I had to agree to play this first song and dedicate it to a special lady in the crowd.”
My heart stops.
Is she talking about me?
“So this one’s for her. Thanks for bringing him out tonight!”
She looks down at me and winks.
My heart starts racing now. Rapidly. Out of control.
I look at Koa, mouth open. “What the fuck?”
He smiles at me. A real smile. Genuine and unguarded and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
He pulls the mic closer and starts drumming.
Holy shit.
Watching him hit the drums makes my heart stop again. He looks completely in his element—confident, powerful, alive in a way I’ve never seen before.
Then he starts singing.
His voice is beautiful. Deep and rough around the edges but melodic. My insides melt to mush.
I don’t dance. I just stand there and stare, unable to process what I’m seeing. This is Koa. The same man who tied me to a tree. Who threatened my brother. Who runs drugs across counties.
And he’s singing. For me.
I stand there dumfounded. Astonished. Shocked. Dazed. Thrown.
Worst of all?
Turned on.
By song three, he looks up mid-beat and smiles at me.
I’m completely undone.
I’m hooked.
On the fourth song, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Once. Twice. Three times.
I ignore it.
But it keeps buzzing.
I grab it, annoyed. Thea’s calling. Over and over.
Shit.
“Thea?” I answer, pressing my finger to my other ear to block out the music.
“Where are you! I’ve been calling you nonstop for ten minutes. It sounds loud.”
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s Axel.”
My stomach drops. “What about him?”
“He texted me. Said he took six pills.”
“What!” I shout into the phone.
I look up at Koa, still drumming, completely absorbed in the music.
“Where is he?”
“We’re at a party...”
“A party? You’re there without me?”
“I can explain,” Thea says quickly. “I’ll send you the address. Get over here right now. I have him in a bedroom.”
I end the call and immediately open Uber. There’s one right outside.
I leave the bar without looking back. Without telling Koa. Without saying goodbye.
My heart’s still mush from that song dedication, but now it’s twisted with panic.
When I reach the party, I’m shaking.
Thea meets me out front, her eyes glassy. Too glassy.
“There you are.” She loops her arm through mine. “He’s upstairs.”
Upstairs.
A bad feeling washes over me as we move through the party. Bodies everywhere. Music pounding. I take the stairs two at a time.