"Patience, Princess," I murmured against her lips, the words almost a growl.
She bit her lip, her frustration clear, but she didn't argue. Instead, she focused on the way I was driving her mad, her body trembling as I continued my slow, deliberate...
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JAYDEN
The emptiness that had consumed me for over two years since that fateful day still lingered. Some days, it felt like a suffocating weight on my chest, but I had to keep moving forward.
I found my escape in football—a lifeline in the chaos, a place where my pent-up rage and sorrow could manifest into something productive. The rush of adrenaline on the field was my drug, a welcome distraction from the shitstorm that was my life.
It became my everything. I poured my soul into it, clawing my way to the top until I was crowned quarterback of the Thunderhawks. It came with perks, sure—popularity, respect, and an endless line of girls wanting my attention. But it also came with pressure. Every throw and every call was dissected, especially by those who thought they deserved to be in my shoes.
No matter how much I proved myself, the pressure never let up. Some people admired me for it, others resented me. But honestly, I didn’t care about the haters. Football was my purpose, my only anchor in the storm. Without it, I'd probably be even more fucked up than I already was.
After a long shower, I got dressed in my gear and slipped into my sleek red sports car. The engine's purr calmed my nerves, the smell of new tires and leather soothing me in a way nothing else could these days. I realized it had been a while since I'd checked in with my therapist. She was the only person I trusted enough to really open up to, aside from my best friends.
I hated to admit it, but I was reluctantly grateful to my dad for sending me to therapy after catching me in a dark place. He had caught me on one of my worst days, and for once, instead of throwing money at the problem, he actually did something that mattered.
He wasn’t always an asshole, but after my mom passed, he just shut down, using work and money as his crutch to avoid dealing with me. My mom had been the heart of our family—beautiful, intelligent, and kind. When she died, something in all of us did too.
Arriving at school, I parked and made my way inside, immediately greeted by the usual nods from guys and flirty winks from girls. Chantel, of course, was trailing behind me. The school's notorious "slut," she’d been chasing me for months, always thinking she could get into my pants. I don’t know why she keeps trying—it's fucking pathetic at this point.
Ignoring her, I kept walking, but Chantel wasn’t having it. “What’s the rush, Jayden?” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. She reached out to touch my arm, but I grabbed her wrist mid-air and fixed her with a cold stare.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I warned, making sure everyone nearby could hear. I didn’t need people thinking I had anything to do with her. Her reputation was a plague, and I wasn’t about to let her ruin mine.
She smirked, completely unfazed. “Oh, come on, Jayden. You know you’ll give in eventually. It’s just a matter of time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Trust me, I’m not interested. Find someone else.” My voice was flat, dismissive.
Her face flushed with embarrassment, but she huffed, “We’ll see about that,” before storming off. As she walked away, I caught a few girls snickering at her behind her back, but Chantel didn't even notice.
Adjusting my backpack, I spotted Coach Williams heading to the field. But just then, I heard a faint whimper. Is someone in trouble? Quickening my steps, I rounded the corner and saw Josh, one of the quiet nerdy kids, backed into a wall by a group of assholes. Of course, Brad, the school’s biggest bully, was at the center of it.
“Hey!” I barked, stepping forward. “What the fuck is going on here?”
The bullies turned to me, momentarily caught off guard. Josh, looking pale and anxious, stammered out, “They—they want me to do their homework again.”
Brad sneered. “This isn’t your business, Jayden. Stay out of it.”
I squared my shoulders, standing my ground. “It is my business when you’re picking on someone who can’t fight back. Back off.”
Brad locked eyes with me, weighing his options. His arrogance faltered just enough for him to signal his goons to back down. “This isn’t over, Josh,” he spat before walking away.
Josh exhaled a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Thanks,” he muttered before quickly disappearing into the crowd.
“No problem,” I called after him, making a mental note to keep an eye on Brad’s crew. They wouldn’t let it go easily.
Just as I was about to leave, I made eye contact with her making her way through the crowd. Justine Frostwood. The girl everyone knew but few got close to. The most popular girl in school. Her beauty hit me like a goddamn truck. I’d seen her a hundred times before and had noticed her beauty, but up close, it was different.
Her loose, glossy curls cascaded down her back, and her lips—shiny and glossed—looked perfect like they were made to be kissed. Her dark skin practically glowed, and the mini skirt hugged her curves in all the right places. I couldn’t stop staring.
Her voice, soft but confident, broke the spell. “You did the right thing, standing up for him. I’m sure Josh appreciates it.”
I nodded, too caught off guard to respond with anything more than that. I admire her even more now. She was popular, but she wasn’t a bitch like most girls in her circle. She had a kind heart—a trait rare among people at the top.
As she walked away, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. For the first time since my last relationship, someone had actually made me feel something. Something real. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to know her. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone else get to her before me.
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