Chapter 22
I wake up with a jolt, heat spreading across my skin, my breath short. The dream is still vivid in my head— Zane’s hands on me, his mouth everywhere, the way he looked at me like he owned me. It wasn’t just a dream. It was intense. Too real.
I groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, but it doesn’t help. The ache between my legs is unbearable.
“Goddamn it,” I mutter.
I slide my hand under the sheets, my fingers brushing over myself. I bite my lip, thinking of him. His voice, his body, the way he smells. It doesn’t take long. My hips jerk, and I bite into my pillow to stifle the sound as the tension snaps.
When it’s over, I stare at the ceiling, my legs still shaking.
“Pathetic,” I whisper to myself, throwing the blanket off.
I grab my phone from the nightstand, still half-dazed, and check my messages. Nothing. Not a single reply from Zane.
I sit up, frowning at the screen. I texted him twice yesterday. Once in the morning, just a casual good luck at practice , and then again last night, asking if he wanted to hang out. Both messages left on read.
The ache in my chest is heavy. Something’s off.
By the time I make it to class, I’m late. The professor glares at me as I slide into a seat in the back, but I ignore it. My head’s too full of Zane.
Why didn’t he answer? Did I say something wrong? Maybe he’s just busy. Practice, games, all that stuff.
Class drags. I try to take notes, but the words don’t stick. As soon as it’s over, I’m out the door, searching for Maya and Caleb.
I find them near the quad, under a tree. Caleb’s got Maya pinned to it, kissing her like it’s his last day on Earth.
“Seriously?” I call out, half laughing, half annoyed.
Maya pulls away, grinning. “Jealous much?”
“No,” I say, crossing my arms. “I just don’t need to see your PDA first thing after class.”
Caleb smirks. “You’re just bitter because Zane’s not here to suck your face.”
“Ha, ha,” I deadpan.
He steps back from Maya, grabbing his bag. “Anyway, I’ve gotta jet. Practice starts in fifteen. Later, babe.” He kisses Maya one more time before jogging off, throwing me a quick wave.
I watch him go, debating whether I should ask him about Zane. Something’s gnawing at me, but I hold my tongue. No way I’m airing my business to Caleb.
Maya nudges me. “What’s with the face?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “You wanna hit the library? I need to study.”
She groans. “Study? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. Come on, it’ll be fun,” I say, grabbing her arm.
“Lies! All lies,” she mutters, but she follows me anyway.
The library is quiet, almost empty. We find a table near the back and dump our stuff.
“So,” Maya says, pulling out her laptop, “where’s that bracelet Zane gave you? The Van Cleef one?”
“In my room,” I say, flipping through my notes.
She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not wearing it? That thing cost, like, a fortune.”
“It doesn’t go with everything,” I mumble, pretending to read.
“Uh-huh,” she says, smirking. “Or maybe you don’t want to flaunt it because you think he’s mad at you?”
I freeze, my hand tightening around my pen.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s written all over your face. You’ve been weird all day.”
“I’m not weird,” I snap.
“Okay,” she says, holding her hands up. “Touchy.”
I force myself to breathe, flipping a page in my notebook just to keep my hands busy. We try to study, but it’s useless. Maya keeps talking, mostly about hockey.
“You know the next game’s going to be huge, right?” she says, spinning her pen between her fingers. “Scouts are going to be there. Caleb’s freaking out about it.”
I nod, not really listening.
“What about Zane?” she asks. “Is he ready?”
“I guess,” I say, my stomach twisting.
She leans in, lowering her voice. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been zoning out all day.”
“Yeah,” I lie.
But I’m not. Something’s wrong, and I can’t shake it. Zane’s silence feels heavy, like a warning I don’t know how to read.
I glance at my watch for the fifth time. It’s been over an hour since practice ended. It’s not like Zane to make me wait this long. Maybe he’s just busy with all the game stuff.
But still. This is getting old.
I pull out my phone and scroll mindlessly through Instagram, ignoring the way my stomach twists. I’m not waiting here for nothing. He’s not going to blow me off again.
Finally, I spot him walking across the parking lot, earbuds in, his hockey bag slung over one shoulder. He looks like he’s in his own little world, focused on nothing but whatever’s on his mind. As he gets closer, I push off the car, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Hey,” I call out, trying to sound casual.
He looks up, surprised. “Shit, didn’t expect you to be here.”
“Yeah, well,” I smirk, “I thought I’d make myself a little more available. Since you’ve been so absent lately.”
He gives me a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve just been running up the wall with hockey. You know how it is.”
“Is that it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
He shrugs, his smile still there but colder than usual. “Yeah. That’s it.”
Something feels off. I’m not dumb. He’s pushing me away.
And I can’t let it slide.
I ask, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
He steps closer, pulling me into him with one hand, his other brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. “No, baby. I’m not mad at you.”
I hate how distant his touch feels, like he’s doing it because he has to, not because he wants to.
Before I can say anything else, his lips kiss mine. It’s rough at first, like he’s trying to prove something. I kiss him back, trying to pull him closer, but it doesn’t feel right. He’s not giving me anything back.
When he finally pulls away, he looks at me like he’s almost guilty, but it doesn’t change anything.
“I miss you,” I say, my voice softer than I want it to be. “I miss all of you... I want you… I want you to fuck me.”
His eyes flicker, and there’s a quick flash of something in them— desire, I think— but it’s gone just as fast.
“Later, baby,” he mutters, his voice rough, but not like before. “I have to get going.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already opening the door to his car and sliding in.
“Call me later,” he says, his voice almost too soft.
I don’t even get a chance to respond before he starts the engine, throwing me a quick wave as he drives off.
Okay, now this is not normal.
I stand here with my arms crossed, watching him disappear out of the parking lot.
The next day, I don’t bother texting him. No point. I’ve already given him space, but it feels like I’m being ignored. He hasn’t even checked in, not once. He’s not even bothering to pretend anymore.
I can’t explain the hollow feeling inside me. It’s like there’s something missing, and I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe he’s just focused on the game, maybe he’s got his head in the wrong place. But whatever it is, it’s pissing me off.
I try to focus on class, but my mind keeps wandering. What’s going on? Why is he pushing me away?
By the time the day ends, I’m crawling out of my skin. I need to figure this out. I can’t sit here and wonder what the hell’s going on. I decide I need to talk to someone— Maya. She’s the only one who might get it.
I head to our dorm after class. She’s sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone. She looks up when I walk in.
“Hey, funny seeing you here. It’s like you’re never here!” she jokes. “What do I owe the pleasure?” she asks.
I collapse onto the couch next to her, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Maya. I’m really not okay.”
She raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Zane. He’s being a dick, fucking ignoring me,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice. “Like, more than usual. He’s barely responding to my texts, and he keeps brushing me off. He’s pretending that he’s fine. I don’t know, but I’m going crazy.”
Maya leans back, staring at me for a long moment. “You sure he’s not just stressed out from hockey? You know how it gets before a big game. Everyone’s running on fumes.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I say, my voice tight. “But this isn’t just stress. He’s shutting me out. And it’s not just because of hockey.”
Maya bites her lip. “Maybe you should show up to his place, see if you can figure it out. Guys like him, they don’t always know how to talk about their shit. You might have to show up and push it out of him.”
I think about it for a second. “You think that’ll work?”
“I mean, I don’t know. But you’re not gonna get any answers by just sitting around waiting for him to come to you,” she says with a shrug.
I nod slowly, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. I need to do this. I can’t keep wondering.
“Yeah, you know what? You’re right,” I say, standing up. “I’ll go over there tonight. I’ll fuck it out of him.”
Maya gives a small laugh, knowing smile. “Seduce it out of him. Just don’t give him what he wants first. Make him work for it.”
“I will,” I mutter.
I sit on the edge of my bed for a while, staring at the floor. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just sit here pretending everything’s fine when I know it’s not. I need to fix this.
I grab my phone, hesitating for a moment before I open a new message to Zane.
Remy: We need to talk. I’ll be over tonight.
I don’t wait for a reply. I’m done waiting. I need answers.
I head to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror for a second. I don’t even recognize the girl staring back at me. I’ve never been this distressed over a guy before. And for what? So he can act like I don’t matter?
No.
I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
The trench coat clings to my sweaty palms as I stand at his front door. My heart’s in overdrive, and my brain’s screaming at me to turn around. But I’m here now, and there’s no backing out. I can’t keep wondering where I stand with him.
I press the doorbell. The chime echoes through the massive mansion, making me feel smaller than I already do.
The door swings open faster than I expect, and there he is— Zane, dripping wet, a towel slung low on his hips, water still beading on his chest.
“Remy?” His voice is sharp, but not in a good way. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I try to smile, but it falters. “I texted you. I just… needed to see you.”
His jaw tightens, and he glances around like he’s worried someone might see me. “You texted? You should’ve called? Fuck!”
“I...” I pull the trench coat tighter around me. “I thought—”
“You thought showing up unannounced was a good idea? You should’ve waited to hear back from me.” He steps back, one hand gripping the edge of the door. “You need to leave.”
“Leave?” My voice cracks, even though I try to sound steady. “Zane–” I almost laugh. “What the fuck? You’re avoiding me at this point. And it’s getting old.”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. “I’m busy, okay? Hockey, school, everything. I don’t have time for this right now.”
“Time for this ?” I step forward, letting the edge of my coat slip open just enough for him to notice the black lace underneath. His eyes flicker, but he doesn’t move closer. “You don’t have time for me?”
“Remy.” His voice is low, almost a growl. “This isn’t—”
“Isn’t what?” I snap, cutting him off. “Isn’t convenient for you? Because you sure as hell had time when you wanted me in your bed. But now I’m standing here, and you can’t even look at me!”
His eyes finally lock on mine, and for a second, I think I’ve gotten through to him. But then he shakes his head, stepping back further into the house.
“You need to go,” he says again, his tone flat.
The words hit like a slap. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. Go home, Remy.”
I stare at him, waiting for him to change his mind, to say something— anything— that tells me I’m wrong about this. But he just stands there, his grip on the door tightening like he can’t wait to shut it.
“Wow,” I say, my voice shaking. “Okay. Fine.”
I turn and walk back to my car, every step heavier than the last. When I slide into the driver’s seat, I sit there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles crack.
That night, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. The ache in my chest is unbearable. He doesn’t care. He didn’t try to explain or reassure me. Just... pushed me away like I didn’t matter.
And maybe I don’t.
I think back to what my mom said once, about guys like Zane. Rich kids always end up with their kind. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re different.
I’d laughed it off at the time, but now? Now it feels like she might’ve been right. Maybe I was just a game to him. A chase. And now that he’s caught me, he’s bored.
The tears come before I can stop them, hot and angry. I bury my face in my pillow, cursing myself for letting him get under my skin.
How did I let this happen? How did I fall for someone who could just toss me aside like I’m nothing?
I wipe my face with the sleeve of my shirt, my mom’s words echoing in my head. Maybe she was right all along.
Zane never really cared. He just wanted the thrill of the hunt. And now that it’s over, he’s done.
I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come. All I can think about is him— his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel like I mattered.
And now? Now I feel like I’ve been played. Like I’m just another girl who thought she could keep him.