Silent Hearts | 18+

Chapter 33

I exhale as I step out of the lecture hall, adjusting the strap of my bag tighter over my shoulder. The past hour was a blur of droning words and half-hearted note-taking, none of which stuck. My brain's fried—too full of deadlines I'm pretending don't exist, and Theo.

God, Theo.

The weight of his hand on my thigh last night still lingers like a bruise. The way I rode him like I had something to prove—because maybe I did. Maybe I needed him to remember that no one else would ever touch me like he does. That Jake was never in the same league. That no one is.

My thighs still ache from the grip he had on me, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to let me take control or pin me down and ruin me completely. He let me ride him, let me have all the power—until he didn't. Until he thrust back up into me so hard I forgot my own name and remembered his like a prayer.

That version of Theo—the one who throws a punch without thinking, then lets me ride the adrenaline out on his lap like I'm the only one who can ground him—that's the one I can't get out of my head.

I shake the thought loose, trying to focus, but my body betrays me. I'm already getting wet just remembering the way he looked at me, like I was both his punishment and his reward.

I dodge around the slow walkers clogging up the hallway, my legs moving on autopilot. One more class. Then I can go home.

Maybe see Theo. Maybe let him—

"Isla."

I hear my name right before a manicured hand lightly grazes my arm. Peyton. Of course.

I school my features into something neutral as I turn to face her. She's smiling, all saccharine sweetness with just a hint of something sharper underneath.

"I was just talking about you," she says, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

Lucky me.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." She shifts her weight onto one leg, tilting her head. "I heard you and Theo are a thing now."

I don't react, but my pulse skips slightly. I don't like people discussing my business, especially not her. "And?"

Peyton lets out a soft laugh, like I'm cute for acting like this isn't newsworthy.

"I just thought you didn't like him like that. Weren't you always saying you were just friends?"

I hold her gaze, refusing to take the bait. "Things change."

She hums, pretending to be fascinated. "I guess so. It is what it is, right?"

There it is. The slight dig, the underlying suggestion that I'm some kind of hypocrite. I bite back the urge to roll my eyes. "Yep."

Peyton smiles again, but this time it's laced with something smug. "Oh, by the way," she says, her tone dripping with feigned casualness. "I heard the football team is having their annual gala in a couple of weeks." Her eyes flicker over me, like she's assessing whether I know. "Has Theo mentioned it to you?"

I keep my face unreadable even though irritation prickles at my skin. "No."

She lifts her brows, just slightly. "Oh. That's weird."

It's not. Theo probably just hasn't brought it up yet. But Peyton wants me to think it's weird. She wants me to wonder, to second-guess things.

I flash her the most indifferent smile I can muster. "Not really."

"Right." Peyton lingers for a second longer, like she's waiting for me to crack, but when I don't, she exhales a little laugh. "Well, see you around."

She spins on her heel and disappears down the hall, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive perfume and manufactured kindness.

I let out a breath, turning back toward my class. It doesn't mean anything. I know it doesn't.

But still, I can't help but wonder.

I force myself to shake it off, to push down the little ember of doubt Peyton was clearly trying to spark. Theo isn't hiding anything. If there's a gala, he'll tell me.

Right?

I press my lips together and head to my next class, but I feel off now—like I'm suddenly aware of every glance thrown my way, every hushed conversation I might not have paid attention to before.

I hate that Peyton got under my skin, even a little.

By the time I slip into my usual seat, I'm annoyed with myself.

This isn't a big deal. Theo and I are fine. Better than fine. I mean, he spent the night at my place three times this week. He's always touching me, always pulling me close, kissing me like he's starving for it. Like he's starving for me.

The thought alone makes me warm, and I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms as I exhale.

I don't know why I let Peyton's voice curl around my spine like a warning.

I refuse to give her that kind of power.

*******

The second my last class ends, I pull out my phone.

Me: Hey, did you forget to mention something to me?

I stare at the screen, willing Theo to answer immediately, but it takes a few minutes. When my phone finally buzzes, I grab it so fast I nearly drop it.

Theo: Nope. Should I have?

I bite my lip, debating how to phrase this.

Me: Peyton said something about a football gala in two weeks. Just wondering why you didn't bring it up.

Three dots appear instantly, then disappear. Then come back.

Theo: Because it's boring as shit?

I snort, but he sends another text before I can respond.

Theo: And because I didn't think you'd want to go. It's a lot of schmoozing and old guys talking about "the good ol' days."

Me: And cheerleaders in tight dresses.

I don't know why I add that, but I do. And I swear I can feel Theo smirking through the phone.

Theo: Is that what this is about? You worried about me being around other girls, Luna?

I roll my eyes, even as my stomach does this annoying little flip.

Me: No.

Theo: Liar.

He follows it with a winking emoji, and my face heats.

Me: So, am I invited or not?

Theo: You want to go?

Me: Maybe.

This time, he doesn't hesitate.

Theo: Then you're coming with me. Wear something that'll make me hate every other guy in the room.

I bite back a smile, even as the heat creeps into my cheeks. Typical Theo.

Peyton wanted to get under my skin.

All she did was make me more sure of where I stand.

And if I show up to that gala with Theo?

She'll see it for herself.