Chapter Nine

SOLANA

The party is in full swing, music vibrating through the walls, laughter and shouting filling the air.

I sit beside Tyler on the couch, trying to blend into the background while he basks in his victory, his arm draped lazily around my shoulders.

His hand, warm and possessive, slides down to my thigh. Then, without warning, he tugs me onto his lap.

I let out a small gasp as my dress rides up, the hem barely covering the tops of my thighs. My cheeks burn as I quickly try to adjust it, but Tyler’s grip on my waist tightens.

“You look good like this,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot.

I swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of the way eyes flick toward me.

Some of his teammates are looking.

No—staring.

Gawking.

At my legs, at the low neckline of my dress, at the way Tyler is holding me.

I shift, trying to move off his lap, but his arms only tighten.

“Stay,” he says, his voice low but firm. “I like having you here.”

I clench my hands into fists, forcing a small smile as I glance around.

That’s when I hear it.

“Damn, Matthews, no wonder you don’t let anyone talk to your girl,” one of the guys, Jake, says with a laugh.

Another chuckles. “Yeah, I’d keep her glued to my lap too if she was mine.”

The laughter spreads through the group, casual, careless.

Like I’m not right here.

Tyler just smirks, completely unbothered. “You wish she was yours.”

More laughter. More teasing.

I keep my face blank, trying to pretend I don’t hear the way they’re talking about me like I’m not even a person—just something for Tyler to own.

My skin crawls.

I shift again, but Tyler grips my thigh, his fingers digging in just enough to be a warning.

So I stay.

I let them joke.

Because I know better than to fight him on this.

Not here. Not now.

“You really lucked out, Matthews,” someone whistles from across the room. “She’s got that whole quiet, innocent thing going on, but damn—look at her.”

I stiffen in Tyler’s lap, my fingers gripping his forearm as my heart pounds.

Tyler just chuckles, running a lazy hand along my bare thigh. “Yeah, she’s a keeper.”

“Keeper?” One of the guys, scoffs. “Bro, if I had a girl like that, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. Too many guys would be dying to get a taste.”

A few of the guys laugh, and I force my expression to stay neutral, but my stomach twists painfully.

“Oh, I don’t let her out of my sight,” Tyler says smoothly, fingers flexing slightly against my skin. “She knows better than that.”

The way he says it, the way his grip tightens, makes my pulse stutter.

And the worst part?

No one finds it strange.

They just laugh.

“Damn, she must be real obedient, huh?” another guy smirks, eyes lingering on my legs. “Bet she does everything you tell her.”

The implication in his tone makes my whole body tense.

Tyler smirks, like he’s in on some private joke. “She’s a good girl.” His fingers brush the inside of my thigh, and I jerk slightly, trying not to show how uncomfortable I am.

Jake tilts his head, eyes dark with amusement. “You ever think of sharing, Matthews?”

A few of the guys chuckle, but my breath catches in my throat.

My whole body turns ice-cold.

Tyler’s grip on me goes still.

Then, in a tone so sharp it slices through the noise, he says, “Not fucking happening.”

The laughter fades instantly, tension creeping into the air.

Jake puts his hands up, grinning. “Relax, man. Just messing with you.”

Tyler doesn’t move for a second, his jaw tight, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin.

Then, just as quickly as it came, the darkness fades.

He smirks, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t forget who she belongs to.”

Another round of laughter. Another joke passed around.

Like what was just said wasn’t completely disgusting.

I feel sick.

My heart is racing, my skin hot with embarrassment, but I know better than to react.

I know better than to move.

So I sit there, still and quiet, as the conversation shifts to football, to the game, to Tyler’s future.

Like none of it happened.

~~~~~

Tyler’s grip on me loosens, just slightly, as he leans in and murmurs, “You good?”

I nod quickly, keeping my voice light. “I just need to use the bathroom.”

He watches me for a second, his thumb grazing my thigh like he’s debating whether to let me go. Then he finally sighs and releases me.

“Don’t take too long,” he says, like it’s a warning.

I nod again and slip off his lap, tugging at my dress as I stand. It still feels too short, too tight, but I don’t look back.

I just walk.

The music is deafening as I make my way through the house, pushing past drunk students, my pulse still racing from the conversation I just escaped.

But apparently, the nightmare isn’t over yet.

A few guys I don’t recognize are standing near the hallway, beers in hand, their eyes immediately snapping to me as I pass.

One of them lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Who let that walk around alone?”

Another one snickers, elbowing his friend. “Matthews has been hiding all that under baggy clothes? What a selfish bastard.”

I keep walking, my face burning, forcing myself not to react.

Don’t say anything. Don’t look at them. Just keep moving.

But then, one of them leans closer as I pass, dropping his voice just enough for only me to hear.

“If he ever gets bored of you, sweetheart, let me know. I’d love to take you for a ride.”

I feel the words crawl over my skin like something dirty and wrong, my stomach twisting violently.

I don’t stop walking.

I don’t even flinch.

I just keep moving, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

The house is bigger than I expected, every hallway seeming to lead into another.

I should’ve asked for directions.

Now, I’m just wandering, hoping I’ll eventually stumble across the bathroom before Tyler notices I’ve been gone too long.

But when I push open another door, instead of a bathroom, I step into a dimly lit bedroom.

It’s quiet, a welcome relief from the chaos outside.

I exhale, closing the door behind me and leaning against it for a second.

My hands are shaking.

I don’t know if it’s from anger, humiliation, or something else entirely.

I shouldn’t care about what those guys said. I should be used to it by now.

But it still gets to me.

Sighing, I push off the door and glance around.

The room is big—too big for a random guest room, which means this must be Nick’s.

Good. At least I’m not completely lost.

I step further inside and take a seat on the edge of the bed, letting out a slow breath, finally catching it for the first time all night.

Just a minute.

Just one minute to myself.

That’s all I need.

And then I’ll go back to Tyler.

The door swings open suddenly.

I jolt upright on the bed, my breath catching as a guy walks in, mid-conversation, his voice sharp with frustration.

“I told you, Mia, I don’t care.” His tone is clipped, his fingers raking through his dark hair. “You always do this—acting like it’s my job to clean up your messes.”

He hasn’t seen me yet.

I sit completely still, debating whether to speak up or slip out unnoticed. But before I can decide, he turns—and freezes.

His voice cuts off instantly.

His brows pull together, his grip on his phone tightening.

Recognition flickers across his face, but I don’t understand why.

He stares at me like I’m someone he wasn’t expecting to see.

Like he’s shocked to see me sitting there, in this room.

His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but no words come out.

I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

The air between us is suddenly heavy, charged with something I can’t quite name.

And then—

Beep.

The call ends.

His phone lowers.

And for a long, drawn-out second, we just stare at each other in silence.

"Um… hi," he says, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

I blink at him, still trying to process the way he’s looking at me.

“…Hi,” I murmur back.

A heavy silence stretches between us, neither of us moving, the muffled sounds of the party outside the only reminder that the rest of the world still exists.

After a few seconds, he clears his throat, shifting on his feet. His eyes flick away, like he’s suddenly nervous, avoiding my gaze as he scratches the back of his neck.

“So… uh…” He hesitates, still not looking directly at me. “What are you doing here?”

I smooth my hands over my dress, suddenly feeling awkward myself. “I, um… I got lost. I was looking for the bathroom and ended up here instead.”

He nods slowly, glancing down like he’s processing my words.

I take the opportunity to study him—his dark, slightly messy hair, the way he keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the way he still won’t meet my eyes.

He’s… nervous?

Something about that surprises me.

Most of the guys at this party have been loud, cocky, looking at me like I’m something to consume.

But he won’t even look at me directly.

It makes me relax, just a little.

“So, um… is this your room?” I ask, just to fill the silence.

His head snaps up, eyes finally meeting mine for the briefest second before flicking away again. “Uh—yeah.”

He shifts awkwardly, like he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oh.” I glance around, my gaze landing on the framed photos on his dresser. “I thought this was Nick’s.”

He lets out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, no. Definitely not Nick’s.”

Something about his nervousness makes me feel less tense, like I’m not the only one feeling out of place.

Like I can breathe.

And I have no idea why.

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