Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
ISA
I woke up at dawn.
The room was still dim, the sky outside the window just starting to turn that pale gray-blue before the sun fully rose. For a moment I didn’t move. I just lay there in Drew’s bed, drowning in one of his old t-shirts, surrounded by the scent of him on the sheets.
My body ached in quiet, intimate places. My eyes were still puffy from crying. And the guilt was already sitting heavy in my chest before I was even fully awake.
I turned my head slowly.
Drew was asleep beside me.
He’d moved us to his bed at some point after I’d cried myself out on the couch.
One of his arms was thrown across the space between us like he’d reached for me in his sleep.
His face was relaxed in a way I’d never seen before— younger, softer, the usual cocky edge smoothed out by exhaustion. His breathing was deep and even.
He looked peaceful.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Last night had been too much. Too raw. Too intimate. He’d held me while I fell apart over another man, and then he’d touched me like I was something he’d been waiting for. And I’d let him. I’d wanted it. That was the part that made shame crawl up my throat.
It had felt more real than anything I’d ever had with Tristan.
And that terrified me.
I couldn’t stay.
Moving as carefully and quietly as I could, I slid out from under the covers.
The t-shirt I was wearing slipped off one shoulder, and I tugged it back up with shaking hands.
My clothes from last night were still damp and crumpled on the floor near the bathroom.
I didn’t bother with them. I just found my phone on the nightstand, grabbed my bag, and slipped out of the room barefoot.
Every creak of the floorboards made my heart jump.
I didn’t look back at him.
I couldn’t.
Downstairs, the house was quiet and still smelled faintly like the fire from last night.
I moved quickly, unlocking the front door as silently as possible and stepping out into the cool morning air.
The sky was just starting to lighten. Birds were beginning to wake up.
It felt like the whole world was holding its breath.
I pulled up the Uber app with numb fingers and requested a ride. My hands were shaking so badly I had to retype my dorm address twice.
While I waited at the end of his driveway, I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly very aware that I was standing outside in nothing but Drew’s shirt. It still smelled like him. I hated how much I wanted to keep it.
The Uber pulled up five minutes later. I climbed into the backseat without a word and gave the driver a small, tight smile when he glanced at me in the mirror.
As we pulled away from Drew’s house, I finally let myself look back.
The windows were still dark. He was probably still asleep. Still peaceful. Still unaware that I’d run like a coward the second the sun started to rise.
I pressed my forehead against the cold window and closed my eyes.
I didn’t know what I was doing.
I didn’t know what last night meant.
I just knew I couldn’t face him this morning. Not when my heart still felt split in two. Not when part of me wanted to crawl back into that bed and let him hold me again, and the other part of me was screaming that I belonged to someone else.
Even if that someone else had walked away from me last night.
The Uber turned onto the main road, taking me back to campus. Back to my dorm. Back to pretending I had any idea what I was doing.
I didn’t look back again.
I showered in silence.
The hot water did nothing for the ache in my leg or the heavier one sitting in my chest. I moved carefully, one hand braced against the wall as I washed off the remnants of last night.
My body still felt marked— not just from crying, but from Drew’s hands, his mouth, the way he’d held me like I was breakable and worth keeping anyway.
When I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself, my roommate was sitting on her bed scrolling through her phone. She looked up the second I limped out of the bathroom.
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Walk of shame?” she asked carefully.
I didn’t answer. Just grabbed clothes and started getting dressed with my back to her.
“Isa…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She stayed quiet after that, but I could feel her watching me as I moved around the room.
Every step sent a dull throb through my hamstring.
I kept my head down and tried to pretend I didn’t notice the way she was studying the oversized t-shirt I had stupidly put back on—the one that clearly didn’t belong to me.
By the time I made it to the athletic complex, the place felt like a tomb.
It was too quiet for this time of day. The usual noise of athletes talking, music playing from someone’s speaker, the sound of weights clanging — it was all muted.
People moved around me, but the air felt thick.
Heavy. Every time I passed a group, conversations dipped or shifted.
I could feel eyes on me. Whispers trailing in my wake.
Everyone knew.
Tristan Vale had chosen himself.
Stella had stood in the middle of the library and confessed she still wanted him.
And he’d walked out without choosing either of us.
Now the entire athletic department was buzzing with it—speculating about what it meant for me.
The girl who had been attached to his side for weeks. The one who cried in front of everyone.
I kept my head down and headed straight for the training room for PT.
I ignored the looks. Ignored the way two soccer girls stopped talking the second I walked past. Ignored the low murmur that followed me down the hallway.
I clenched my jaw and kept walking.
The physical therapist was already waiting for me. I changed into shorts and climbed onto the table without making eye contact with anyone. The familiar routine of stretching and careful movements helped a little. At least here, I could focus on something other than the disaster my life had become.
I was trying to give Drew the runaround.
After the night he held me through the worst of my heartbreak, after I snuck out of his bed at dawn like a coward, I’d been avoiding him. Dodging his texts. Taking different routes between classes. Pretending I didn’t see him when our paths crossed on campus.
But today he was in my class again.
And of course, the second he walked in, the usual group of WAG wannabes swarmed.
They knew his stats. They knew his next game. They knew exactly how to giggle and flip their hair while asking if he could sign their jerseys. Drew leaned back in his chair like a king on his throne, signing with that lazy smirk, soaking up every bit of attention like it was sunlight.
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
“Male slut,” I muttered under my breath while scribbling in my notebook.
His head turned slightly. One dark brow lifted.
“You jelly belly?” he asked, voice low and amused. “’Cause all this could be yours, princess. All you have to do is say the word.”
I didn’t answer. Just kept my eyes on my notes and prayed the professor would start soon.
When class finally ended, I moved as fast as my leg brace would let me. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t very fast. I tried to slip around him, but Drew was already on his feet and blocking the aisle with that big body of his.
He caught me gently by the elbow before I could escape.
“We need to talk about the other night,” he said quietly.
“No, we don’t.” I kept my voice light, almost breezy. “I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
He studied me for a second, eyes narrowing.
“Is it, princess?”
I yanked my arm free and started walking again, slower than I wanted because of the damn brace.
“He didn’t choose her,” I said over my shoulder. “We’ve been texting. I’m going to his next game. I’m not giving up on him.”
That was all it took.
Drew’s hand wrapped around my elbow again, firmer this time, and he steered me into an empty classroom down the hall before I could protest. The door clicked shut behind us.
When I turned around, the usual cocky, easygoing Drew was gone.
His jaw was tight. His eyes had gone dark—like the ocean right before a storm. For the first time since I’d known him, there was no trace of that playful, flirty charm.
He was pissed.
“Then maybe I’m giving up on you,” he said, voice low and rough. “Why do you keep chasing a guy who doesn’t want you? He knows you’re always there. Always available. Hardly makes you valuable, Isa.”
I flinched.
“I could say the same about you.”
His expression hardened even more.
“Not anymore, cupcake.” He stepped closer, crowding me without touching.
“I know when it’s time to fold, and I’m folding my cards.
You can keep pretending you didn’t feel what I felt the other night — because I know you felt it.
You can keep chasing a man who will always be thinking about some other woman while his lips are on yours, if that’s the life you want. ”
He let out a short, bitter laugh.
“But me? I knew you weren’t thinking about him when my hands were on you, baby.
And that’s the real sad part.” His voice dropped even lower.
“Because now I’m walking away. And next time?
Don’t come crying and running to me. I’m not gonna be the one holding you through the next broken heart he causes. ”
He turned and walked out without another word, leaving the door open behind him.
I stood there in the empty classroom, leg brace digging into my skin, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
For the first time since this whole mess started, Drew Travers had actually left.
And I had no idea why that felt worse than anything Tristan had ever done to me.