[BOOK2]
Friendship built their world. Love will break it open. ❤️
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lo...
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Lectures always dragged but today felt like torture. Lewis slumped next to me in the back row, head tilted against his palm, eyes glazed over as our professor droned on about economic theory. I wasn't much better—restless, distracted, my mind drifting to Isla.
Since I left her place for practice four days ago, I'd barely heard from her. A couple of short texts. One call that felt more like a check-in than anything else. Her replies were clipped, her voice... off. Like she was trying too hard to sound normal. Like she was holding something back.
And Isla didn't hold back with me. Ever.
Until now.
She was pushing me away—and I didn't know why.
When class finally ended, Lewis stretched dramatically, rolling his shoulders with an exaggerated groan. "I swear that lecture took years off my life."
"You'd have to actually pay attention for that," I shot back, grinning as we made our way through the crowded halls toward the exit.
"Ha, hilarious," Lewis drawled. "I paid attention to the important parts. You know, like... the end."
We stepped out into the sunshine, blinking against the bright glare as we moved down the concrete steps toward the quad.
Lewis nudged me, nodding toward a bench beneath one of the oak trees. "Heads up—trouble at two o'clock."
I followed his gaze, spotting Peyton immediately. She sat cross-legged, textbook resting open on her lap, dark hair tumbling over her shoulder in perfectly styled waves. Her eyes lifted slowly, finding mine in an instant, a small, calculated smile spreading across her lips.
Something tightened in my gut, but I kept my expression neutral as she pushed off the bench, textbook tucked neatly under her arm, walking toward us like she'd rehearsed the moment.
"Hey, Theo." Her voice was smooth, too sweet, all casual confidence as she stepped closer.
"Peyton." My tone stayed even, politely distant. Isla had never told me outright, but it didn't take a genius to notice there was tension between them. And Peyton? She set me on edge in a way I couldn't quite explain.
Lewis shifted beside me, sensing the tension, brows raised as he glanced between us.
"You look dehydrated," Peyton said, her gaze deliberately drifting over my face before she lifted a bottle of water, offering it up casually. "Here. It's new. Haven't opened it yet."
I hesitated, instinct prickling at the back of my neck. "I'm good, actually. Was just about to hit the store—"
"Oh, come on." She rolled her eyes playfully, thrusting the bottle closer. "It's water, Theo. I don't bite."
Lewis chuckled, clearly amused by her persistence. He reached out, grinning as he tried to intercept the bottle. "If he doesn't want it, I'll—"
"No!" Peyton's voice was sharp—too loud, almost shrill. She recoiled quickly, clutching the bottle protectively against her chest, eyes widening briefly as she forced an awkward laugh. "I mean, it's—sorry, it's just... this is for Theo."
