Silent Hearts | 18+

Chapter 30

Peyton stands on my doorstep, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, radiating pure irritation.

And I just blink at her, because—

Oh, fuck.

I was supposed to meet her last night.

And I completely, completely forgot.

Not that it really matters—I don't owe her anything. We're not a thing. Never have been. She's made it clear she's interested, and I've made it clear I'm not. But somewhere along the way, I agreed to drinks or some shit, probably just to get her off my back. And then—

Then Isla happened.

And now Peyton is standing here, looking like she's two seconds away from ripping me a new one.

She cocks a hip, tapping her manicured nails against her arm. "So, what? You ghost me now?"

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. "Look, Peyton—"

She holds up a manicured hand, cutting me off. "You stood me up."

I don't argue. "Yeah. I did."

Her brows lift, like she wasn't expecting me to own it. "And?"

"And I should've told you I wasn't coming," I admit, keeping my voice even. No guilt. No regret. Just the facts. "That's on me."

She exhales sharply, eyes flicking over me like she's trying to find some crack in my resolve. "Why?"

I don't hesitate. "Because I was with Isla."

Something flickers across her face—annoyance, maybe a little embarrassment—but it's gone just as fast.

"Right." She lets out a humourless laugh, taking a step back. "Of course. Her."

I hold her gaze, unwavering. "I'm dating Isla now."

Peyton doesn't flinch. Doesn't look surprised. Just lets out a soft laugh, slow and calculated, like she knows something I don't.

"Dating," she repeats, rolling the word over her tongue like she's testing it.

I shift, folding my arms over my chest, my muscles tensing under the weight of her stare. I can almost feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

"Yeah. So if you were holding out hope for something between us, don't. It's not happening."

She clicks her tongue, tilting her head. "You know, Theo, it's funny. You spent so long acting like you weren't into anyone. Like no one could hold your attention." She takes a slow step forward, lowering her voice. "And now you're suddenly all in?"

I don't flinch, don't even blink. "I'm sorry Peyton but no one could get my attention, but Isla is not just anyone."

Her lips twitch, and for a split second, I think she's going to snap. But then, she just shrugs, as if I'm an annoyance she's tired of dealing with. "You think I'm heartbroken?"

I smirk, because she's so fucking predictable. "I think you don't like losing."

That hits her, just enough to make her eyes flash with something sharper. It's not anger, though. It's something... dangerous. She clicks her tongue, tilting her head with that calculated expression. "Please," she says, almost amused. "Don't flatter yourself, Theo."

Her voice is smooth, but there's something brittle about the way she says it. Like she's trying to mask the fact that she's not getting her way.

"I'm not. Trust me."

I see the shift in her demeanour before she even speaks again. Her lips curl into that familiar, too-perfect smirk. "Well, we still have a date."

I let the words sink in, feel the familiar burn of annoyance rising in my chest.

"No, we don't." I step forward, narrowing the space between us, my tone firm, unwavering. She's going to get this through her head, whether she likes it or not.

Her eyes gleam with a spark of something dangerous. "Fine." She takes a deep breath, then shrugs like she's deciding whether to indulge me or not. "I'll take a rain check."

Jesus Christ.

I drop my voice to a low growl, making sure she hears every word. "There won't be a rain check. There won't be a next time. There's nothing between us, Peyton. There never will be."

Her eyes flicker with that sharp, calculating look, and I can feel her trying to read me, trying to twist me into something she can control.

She doesn't.

"I'm with Isla," I add, my tone firm. "And that's not changing."

Peyton's lips curve, slow and knowing, like she's entertained by my conviction. Like she thinks it's cute.

The words hit her, but she doesn't show it. Not right away. Instead, she smiles—slow, wicked, like she knows exactly how this will play out in her head.

And then she says it.

"I love a challenge," she purrs, eyes glinting with something cold.

She steps closer, lifting a hand, her fingers just brushing her lips as she blows me a kiss. The movement is deliberate, almost rehearsed, and I fucking hate it. My whole body tightens, disgust swirling in my gut.

I don't want her—never have, not really. And the way she's acting? It's not attractive.

It's repulsive.

I can't get away from her fast enough.

But instead, I force myself to smile—a sharp, biting one. "Get the hell out of here, Peyton."

She gives me one last lingering look before turning on her heel, her hips swaying like she's trying to make sure I do watch.

I don't.

I wait until she's out of sight before slamming the door shut behind me. My pulse is racing in my veins, and for a split second, I feel that tension in my chest loosen.

It could've gone worse.

But honestly?

I don't give a fuck.

Because Isla's mine. And she's all I've ever wanted.