And if he thought he was getting another shot at her without going through me first, he was even dumber than I thought.
I shook off my teammates’ hands, rolled my shoulder, and walked out without another word.
Let them talk.
Let him swing.
I wasn’t done with Isa Calloway.
And I sure as hell wasn’t done with him.
Chapter Eight
ISA
I woke up at dawn.
The room was still dim, the sky outside the window just starting to turn that pale gray-blue before the sun fully rose. For a moment I didn’t move. I just lay there in Drew’s bed, drowning in one of his old t-shirts, surrounded by the scent of him on the sheets.
My body ached in quiet, intimate places. My eyes were still puffy from crying. And the guilt was already sitting heavy in my chest before I was even fully awake.
I turned my head slowly.
Drew was asleep beside me.
He’d moved us to his bed at some point after I’d cried myself out on the couch. One of his arms was thrown across the space between us like he’d reached for me in his sleep. His face was relaxed in a way I’d never seen before— younger, softer, the usual cocky edge smoothed out by exhaustion. His breathing was deep and even.
He looked peaceful.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Last night had been too much. Too raw. Too intimate. He’d held me while I fell apart over another man, and then he’d touched me like I was something he’d been waiting for. And I’d let him. I’d wanted it. That was the part that made shame crawl up my throat.
It had felt more real than anything I’d ever had with Tristan.
And that terrified me.
I couldn’t stay.
Moving as carefully and quietly as I could, I slid out from under the covers. The t-shirt I was wearing slipped off one shoulder, and I tugged it back up with shaking hands. My clothes from last night were still damp and crumpled on the floor near the bathroom. I didn’t bother with them. I just found my phone on the nightstand, grabbed my bag, and slipped out of the room barefoot.
Every creak of the floorboards made my heart jump.
I didn’t look back at him.
I couldn’t.
Downstairs, the house was quiet and still smelled faintly like the fire from last night. I moved quickly, unlocking the front door as silently as possible and stepping out into the cool morning air. The sky was just starting to lighten. Birds were beginning to wake up. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath.
I pulled up the Uber app with numb fingers and requested a ride. My hands were shaking so badly I had to retype my dorm address twice.
While I waited at the end of his driveway, I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly very aware that I was standing outside in nothing but Drew’s shirt. It still smelled like him. I hated how much I wanted to keep it.
The Uber pulled up five minutes later. I climbed into the backseat without a word and gave the driver a small, tight smile when he glanced at me in the mirror.
As we pulled away from Drew’s house, I finally let myself look back.
The windows were still dark. He was probably still asleep. Still peaceful. Still unaware that I’d run like a coward the second the sun started to rise.
