CHAPTER 21
The garage is cold and quiet as I shove my bag into the car, the echo of last night still lingering in my mind.
Every time I close my eyes, I’m back at the lake, feeling the warmth of Hayes’s breath, the intensity in his eyes as he leaned in.
A part of me loved every second of it—the thrill, the electricity—but now, in the harsh light of day, I can’t ignore the nagging feeling that I let him play me.
Harper comes in, her footsteps light as she bounces to the passenger side. She reaches for the handle, and I snap out of my thoughts, the tension bubbling up inside me. “Sit in the back,” I say sharply.
She blinks, taken aback as she turns to face me. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m picking up Tripp. Just… sit in the back,” I mutter, not in the mood to explain myself.
Harper huffs, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she says, shooting me a glare as she climbs into the backseat. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”
Maybe she’s right, but I don’t care. I can’t deal with her questions right now. My mind is too full of Hayes—of the way he got so close, breaking through every wall I swore I’d keep up around him. I was stupid, letting myself believe for one second that it meant anything.
We pull up to Tripp’s place, a modern house, and he jogs to the car, earbuds dangling around his neck.
Tripp’s house is nothing like Hayes Griffin’s.
It’s sleek and minimalist, all sharp edges and glass, as if it belongs in some architectural magazine.
The lawn is perfectly manicured, the driveway spotless, and there’s an almost clinical air about it that screams perfection.
Hayes’s, on the other hand, feels like luxury wrapped in comfort.
Everything about that boy screams wealth and class—the sprawling estate, the towering gates, the immaculate landscaping.
But it’s not just the house; it’s the way he carries himself, with an effortless confidence that only comes from a life of privilege.
The kind of life that feels a million miles away from who I am.
While Tripp’s house looks welcoming and maybe not luxurious, Hayes’s home feels lived-in yet untouchable.
The kind of place where the marble floors gleam under chandeliers, and even the throw pillows look like they cost more than my mother’s monthly earnings.
It’s intimidating in its own way, but it’s also…
warm, like him. And maybe that’s why I hate it.
It’s a constant reminder of the separate world we both live in.
Tripp hops into the passenger seat, neatly dressed in Crestview Prep’s uniform without the tie, an exact replica of me, as he throws me a casual grin. “Morning, loser,” he says, giving me a nudge on the shoulder.
“Hey, Tripp,” Harper says, sounding only a little less irritated.
“Sup, Harp. How you doing?” Tripp greets her like they’ve known each other for a long time, even though this is the first time they’re meeting officially. His casual confidence is almost irritating, the way he leans against the car door and grins at her like they’re old friends.
Harper raises an eyebrow, her arms crossed.
“It’s Harper,” she corrects, but there’s a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
She’s trying to act unimpressed, but I can tell she’s amused.
Tripp has that effect on people—effortlessly charming in a way that makes you roll your eyes and laugh at the same time.
“Harper,” he repeats, drawing out her name like he’s testing it on his tongue. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” He glances at me with a knowing look, and I shoot him a glare.
Harper doesn’t miss a beat. “I doubt that,” she says, her tone dry. “Unless Dakota’s been keeping a diary about me, which I’m pretty sure he hasn’t.”
Tripp laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. But if he did, I bet it’d be all glowing reviews.”
Harper rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Yeah, okay,” she mutters, turning her focus to her phone.
“I like her,” Tripp says, grinning at me.
I force a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the mood I’m in. But Tripp isn’t one to let things go easily. “So, what’s got you all broody today?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, gripping the wheel harder than I should. “Just tired.”
“Right,” Harper mutters, and I shoot her a glare through the rearview mirror. She smiles and turns her focus back to her phone. Whoever she’s chatting with sure got her attention.
“Tired, huh?” Tripp raises an eyebrow, smirking like he knows something. “Sounds like someone’s in a funk.”
I shrug him off, hoping he’ll drop it, but his words gnaw at me.
He’s right—I am in a funk. And the worst part?
I know exactly why. I hate how much I liked last night.
Every part of it, from the silence to the almost-kiss, felt like something I’ve been trying to deny.
It wasn’t just physical; it was the way the air between us seemed to crackle with something unspoken, something dangerous. And I leaned into it, like an idiot.
But now, the anger kicks in, simmering beneath the surface.
I let him get too close. Again. Like every other time I tell myself I’ll keep my guard up, he finds a way in—whether it’s a smirk, a stupid comment, or that damn look in his eyes that I can’t seem to ignore.
He’s playing games, and I’m the fool letting him win.
When am I ever going to learn my lessons? Why do I always let him play me like a fucking idiot?
I clench my fists, forcing myself to focus on the road ahead. Hayes doesn’t get to mess with my head like this—not anymore. If he thinks I’m going to let him have the upper hand, he’s dead wrong. Whatever game he’s playing, I’ll make sure he’s the one left scrambling this time.
Even though right now I’m thinking about what his hands would feel like pressed against my body and what his lips would taste like pressed against mine. And not to mention I’d pleasured myself last night with the thoughts of the boy I loathed.
Fuck my life.
I bite down the frustration, promising myself that I won’t fall for it again. Hayes can’t play me, not anymore. He may have his cool, confident act down to perfection, but I know better. And I’m done letting him get under my skin.
When we pull up to Crestview Prep, I can feel my pulse quicken, and my jaw clenches involuntarily.
I shouldn’t care if he’s here. I shouldn’t care if he’s laughing with his friends, acting as if nothing happened between us last night.
But when I see him in the parking lot, leaning against his expensive car, his easy smile and relaxed stance, it all comes rushing back.
Our eyes lock for the briefest moment, and he goes still, his expression flickering. But then he glances away, laughing at something Shay says, like I don’t even exist.
“Dakota? You coming?” Tripp’s voice snaps me out of it and I realize I’d stopped walking.
Shit.
“Yeah,” I mutter, flinging my backpack over my shoulder as I walk up to meet Tripp. I keep my face neutral, ignoring the knot in my chest, the mix of anger and something else twisting inside me.
As we walk toward the entrance, I steal one last glance at Hayes, a bitter resolve settling in. I may have let him in last night, but it won’t happen again. He doesn’t get to play me, doesn’t get to twist me up with those stupid mind games. I’m done.
Whatever last night was, I’ll make sure it stays in the past, right where it belongs.
The hallway is alive with Monday morning chaos—lockers slamming, students rushing to classes, and conversations echoing off the walls.
I keep my head up, trying to block it all out as I make my way to my locker.
Harper has already peeled off toward her classes, leaving me to deal with my thoughts in peace. Or at least that’s the plan.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Kris and Brooklyn walking toward us.
Kris is as animated as ever, gesturing wildly as she talks, her top buttons left open revealing her full chest, while Brooklyn offers her usual effortless smile.
She has this calm presence that seems to slow the world down, even in the middle of all this chaos.
Sometimes I ask myself why a quiet and nice girl like Brooklyn would date someone as loud and dumb as Ezra?
And they call it love.
Beside me, Tripp suddenly straightens up, tugging at the hem of his shirt that’s untucked and smoothing his hair.
Subtle, but not subtle enough. I smirk to myself, wondering how long he’s going to keep this act up before he finally tells Brooklyn how he feels.
He’s been into her for as long as I can remember, but he still thinks asking Brooklyn out isn’t the right choice at the moment, you know, since she just got out of a toxic relationship.
“Hello, gents,” Kris says when she and Brooklyn approach us, flashing me a flirtatious smile, as she waves at me.
Her voice is smooth, playful, like she’s testing the waters.
Yup, Tripp did tell me Kris liked me. Definitely not going to happen anytime soon.
And as flattering as that might be, Kris isn’t my type.
Maybe physical looks, sure—she’s undeniably attractive, with her confident smile and the kind of presence that demands attention.
But her attitude? That’s a different story.
She’s the type who thrives on being the center of attention, always in the middle of every conversation, every joke, every situation. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s not for me. Besides, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s used to getting what she wants, but not this time.
Plus, the last thing I want right now is a relationship. Even though I want a quick hook-up, Kris isn’t what I want. She’s the type of girl who would suddenly expect a relationship after a quick fuck.
No can do.
“Hey, Dakota. Hi, Tripp,” Brooklyn greets us, her tone light but friendly, the kind of easy warmth that makes everyone feel comfortable.