A voice I know all too well, making every muscle in my body tighten as the blood pumping hot in my veins freezes over. I’m rigid as I weakly turn my head to see Landon standing in the doorway, his blue eyes practically burning a hole straight through me. Dread balls heavy in my stomach as I stare at him, my breathing shuddering as I try to take a steadying inhale, but I fail. The hair on my neck pricks as my heart pounds in my ears.
I can’t speak. I can hardly breathe.
It’s like my lungs are rejecting the oxygen I’m trying so hard to breathe in.
“You move fast, Evie,” Landon tsks. “I’ll give you that.”
That makes anger flare slightly amidst the chaos happening in my body right now.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to rasp.
He takes a step toward Tate and me, and my eyes immediately divert to his chest instead of the intense gaze he has on me. Submitting to him once again, like it’s muscle memory. His energy is paralyzing, so much so that I even take a small step back as he gets closer.
“Came to see what your plans were for break.”
Bastard.
Him reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear makes me recoil slightly, and that only further fuels my anger. It’s irritating enough that he’s acting this way in front of Tatum, like he’s marking his territory or staking his claim on me, but to try to touch me? As if he has any right to ever come near me again?
“That’s none of your business anymore,” I tell him.
Landon scoffs, combing his blond hair back swiftly with his fingers. “Oh? So, what? Are you spending it with this guy?”
My gaze nervously flicks over to Tatum, who I’m surprised to see is looking directly at me, his dark eyes not blinking, unwavering, just staring at me like he’s scared that if he moves them, something will happen.
“It’snoneof your business,” I repeat, firmer this time. He can’t treat me like this, not anymore. He’s expecting me to falter like I always have, and as much as I still want to, I refuse. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing me cower; he never did.
“You’re always my business.”
This is humiliating. Humiliating that I ever let him treat me this way, humiliating that Tatum has to bear witness to it now,humiliating that it has to be so blatantly obvious what is going on here. This is the last thing I want anyone to have to see, let alone deal with.
My brain is working so hard to come up with a comeback to show him that he’s not in charge anymore, not of me, but I’m blanking. My lips part, but nothing comes out. I’m trying so hard to break free from these invisible chains he’s always had around me, and I thought that my progress over the last few months had been good, but now—when it actually counts—I can’t even stand up for myself the way I want.
But like a saving grace, Tatum physically steps in between Landon and me as he reaches for one of my suitcases. “We should probably, uh, hit the road.”
Tate isn’t the type of person to be confrontational, that much I know, but this is his way of trying to help me out, and a warmth spreads in my chest because of it.
“Yeah,” I agree, “it’s time for you to go, Landon.”
He glances between Tatum and me, a sly smirk dancing on his lips, flittering on the edge of anger. I know that look all too well. He’s keeping up the mask, but his blood is boiling.
“No problem,” Landon says coolly. “I’ll catch you when you come back.”
To any normal person, those words wouldn’t mean anything malicious, but I’m not normal. I’m far from normal. I’m on the opposite end of normal because he made me this way. I know that his words have meaning behind them.I’ll catch you.Like he still has a power over me, like I’ll cower to him like I always have.
My shoulders sag as soon as Landon is gone, my face falling into my palms as I suck in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. That was my…ex. For obvious reasons.”
“You, uh… Are you okay?”
I look up at him, and for the first time, he doesn’t immediately avoid my stare. Instead, his dark eyes frown downat me through his glasses, his lashes fluttering faintly—like he’s trying really hard not to look away from me, even though he’s uncomfortable with eye contact for this long. Like he needs to know that I’m okay.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I finally croak.
He just nods, not dwelling on it even a second longer, which I am thankful for. Tatum never dwells, never hovers, never pushes, and I offer him the same. It’s like we have this silent acknowledgment between the two of us.
On the way out of my dorm, I’m rolling one suitcase while he grabs the other two, leading me downstairs into the main lobby toward the entrance of the co-ed building. Snow falls lightly outside, the first bits of the snowstorm that’s due in the next twenty-four hours coating everything in a blanket of white. A smile creeps onto my face as I follow Tate outside, reveling in the way it crunches beneath my boots and clings to my hair that sticks out from under my beanie. I’ve always loved the snow; we never really get it in San Diego, not like this.
He guides me to a dark blue, older Chevy truck with large tires and a covered truck bed that he opens to put my stuff inside next to his. I don’t know much about trucks, but I can tell that he takes care of this one because of the way it practically looks brand new. Through the windows, I can see the tan leather seats inside that look like they’d never even been sat on before.
