7. Ally

Chapter 7

Ally

K ara handed Thomas the trophy just as her phone rang. She glanced at me apologetically.

“Can you pose him?” she asked, pulling out her phone. “I need to take this.”

She didn’t wait for my answer, walking away while answering her call. I sighed, setting my camera down carefully on a nearby table. The weight of the night pressed on me. The sooner I did this, the sooner I could leave.

“All right,” I muttered to myself, stepping closer to Thomas. “Hold it like this,” I said, demonstrating with my hands.

Thomas watched me but didn’t move, his expression unreadable. The tension between us hung thick in the air. He adjusted his grip on the trophy but still looked awkward, as if it were a foreign object.

I hesitated before reaching out. My fingers brushed against his, and a spark ignited within me. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver down my spine. I froze, but didn’t pull away, guiding his hands into position.

“Like this,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

Thomas’s eyes met mine, heated and intense. The world seemed to shrink around us, leaving only the two of us in that moment. His gaze held mine captive, and I felt my resolve weakening.

I cleared my throat, trying to focus on the task at hand. “You need to lift it a bit higher,” I instructed, adjusting his arms gently.

His breath hitched slightly as my hands lingered on his. The contact felt electric, and I struggled to maintain my composure. The memory of our last encounter flooded back—raw and unresolved.

“There,” I said softly, stepping back, but not quite breaking eye contact. "Now… hold that."

I went back to my camera, picked it up, and took a couple of pictures. The shutter clicked, capturing Thomas in the golden glow of the stage lights. I looked at one of the shots, my chest tightening painfully.

Thomas stood there, tall and imposing, his presence radiating authority and intensity. The way he held the trophy was reminiscent of a warrior gripping his weapon—powerful and unyielding. His eyes, piercing and dark blue, seemed to cut through me even from a distance. A hint of vulnerability lingered beneath that brooding exterior, but it was buried deep, hidden behind layers of control and guarded emotions.

My chest hurt just looking at him. Desire pooled in my stomach, but guilt gnawed at me, too. The secret I kept from him weighed heavily on my conscience.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself. I couldn’t believe Nick’s audacity—the fact that he would come here tonight. He knew exactly what he was doing, stirring up old wounds and throwing me into this emotional turmoil. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but somehow, I still was.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and refocused on Thomas.

“Al,” he murmured.

My head snapped up at the nickname. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the world around us disappeared.

I felt exposed under his gaze, as if he could see right through me—past the walls I had carefully constructed to protect myself. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much to bear, but I couldn’t look away.

There we stood, caught in a silent conversation that spoke volumes about the unresolved feelings between us.

"What the hell is going on between you and Nick?" Thomas asked, his voice low and demanding. "What are you…?" He let his voice trail off, but the implication was clear.

I clenched my teeth, fiddling with my camera to avoid his piercing gaze. The weight of his question hung heavily in the air.

"It's nothing," I murmured, my fingers trembling slightly as I adjusted the lens cap. I wanted to escape, to flee from this suffocating tension. Whether Kara returned or not didn’t matter—I had done what she needed me to do.

"Don't," Thomas said, his voice a low growl.

I looked up at him, our eyes locking once more.

"Don't lie to me," he said. "Not you."

Another intense moment passed between us, charged with unspoken emotions and unresolved feelings. His eyes bore into mine, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give.

"I have to go," I said, turning away.

Before I could take a step, Thomas grabbed my arm. "Don't," he repeated. "Don't leave m?—"

I pulled against his grip, but he didn’t release me. His hold was firm yet desperate.

"The last time you left, you didn't come back," he said, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that caught me off guard.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I tried to steady myself, but the emotions were too overwhelming.

"I can't do this right now," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Why?" His grip tightened ever so slightly. "Why can’t you just be honest with me?"

"Because it hurts," I blurted out before I could stop myself. The words hung in the air between us, heavy with truth.

Thomas’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. But the tension remained, an unspoken challenge lingering between us.

"I need you to let go," I said quietly but firmly.

"I can't do that," Thomas said, his grip firm on my arm.

"Why not?" I demanded, my voice barely steady.

"Because…" He clenched his teeth, anger sparking in his eyes. "You left. You didn't take my calls."

"I didn't want to come between you and your son," I replied, trying to pull away.

"You think I give a shit about that?" he snapped.

"You should," I shot back. "He's your son. I… It was three weeks. It didn't mean…"

"You're a goddamn coward," he spat, finally releasing me. "And a fucking liar." He scoffed, the sound bitter and cold. "I thought you were better than that."

His words cut deep, but instead of feeling sorry for myself, anger surged through me.

"How dare you," I said, stepping closer, my eyes blazing.

"How dare me? I didn't run away," he retorted.

"You don't get it, do you?" I snapped. "You think it's easy for me? To see you? To know what I've lost?"

"And whose fault is that?" he demanded, his voice rising. "You shut me out! You didn’t give me a chance!"

"A chance?" I laughed bitterly. "What chance? To pretend everything's fine? To act like we’re not standing on the edge of a cliff?"

Thomas's face hardened, his jaw clenching in frustration. "You think this is just about you? You think you’re the only one hurting?"

My heart pounded in my chest, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to break free. "I never said that."

"No, but you act like it," he accused. "Like you're the only one who’s lost something."

"Nick was lost to me the second his mom took him from me," Thomas said, his voice low and rough. "You... Why did you leave?"

"I didn't want to make things worse," I whispered, my heart aching.

"Worse? You think they could have gotten worse?"

"Tom, you broke his jaw," I reminded him, the memory still vivid.

"He hit you," Thomas replied, anger flashing in his eyes.

"On accident," I said, trying to calm the storm brewing between us.

"You can't seriously be defending it," he growled. "You got in the way. You shouldn't have moved?—"

"My dad walked out on me," I interrupted, my voice trembling. "For someone else. For another family. A long time ago, sure, but still. He never... I didn't want to be a reason..."

"What happened with me and Nick happened before you, sweetheart," he said, his tone softening.

"He doesn't see it that way," I countered.

"I could give two flying fucks," he snapped. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I tried to make it work with him. I did. I'm only glad I didn't have another kid. I can't imagine life with two."

I flinched as if he'd slapped me. "So, you'd never have kids again?"

Thomas looked at me. "Have you seen me?" He gestured at himself. "I'm not father of the year. Nick won't even talk to me. His mother doesn't fucking help. And honestly? I'm tired of fighting. I just... I don't want to fight anymore."

His words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, suffocating and oppressive. The raw honesty in his voice cut through me, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Tom..." My voice broke as I tried to find the right words.

He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I'm not asking for your pity, Ally. Just... be honest with me."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between us pressing down on my chest.

"I left because I didn't know how to handle everything," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Nick and I were over. But I still felt guilty, like I was doing something wrong. Like I was betraying him. And if I felt that way, I could only imagine what you felt."

His eyes softened at my admission, the anger dissipating like mist under the sun.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting his touch ground me.

"I just wanted to protect myself," I whispered. "And you. And him. I didn't want… I wanted you to try to fix things."

"And you think leaving was the answer?" he asked softly.

I opened my eyes and met his gaze. "I don't know," I admitted. "But it was all I could do at the time. I didn't think I would help anything."

Thomas sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair again.

Thomas towered over me, his presence almost overwhelming. I had to lean back to look up at him, the distance between us shrinking by the second.

“Ally,” he whispered, his voice carrying a mixture of urgency and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite name. “You don’t understand…”

His hand cupped my cheek, and I felt his thumb gently trace my bottom lip. The touch sent a jolt through me, my heart skipping a beat. He was close enough to kiss me. I told myself I didn’t want that—I didn’t—but if he did; I wasn’t sure I could pull away.

“Talk to me,” he said, his voice a low murmur that vibrated through my chest. “What does he have over you?”

His words were like a douse of cold water. Reality crashed back in. I shouldn’t be this close to him. Not when Nick could walk in at any moment. Not when he could see us together.

I let out a shaky breath and pulled away. This time, Thomas let me go.

“I have to go,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I can help you,” he insisted, his eyes filled with earnest determination. “Ally, I want to.”

I shook my head, taking another step back to create some much-needed distance between us. “It’s not that simple,” I whispered.

Thomas took a step forward, closing the gap again, but not touching me this time. “Let me try,” he urged softly.

I looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, but the weight of everything unsaid hung heavily between us.

“You can’t fix this,” I said, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill over. “Some things can’t be fixed.”

He frowned but didn’t push further. Instead, he just stood there, looking at me as if searching for some way to reach me through the walls I’d built.

“Honestly, this is something I need to handle myself,” I said, my voice firm but pained. “I can't have you save me every time, Tom. You wound up in jail. You broke Nick's jaw. You could have gotten fired. If the dean hadn't been so desperate…”

“I know,” Thomas said gruffly, his jaw clenched. “I'd do it again. I'd do anything I could to protect you. You know that.”

“I don't need that,” I said, shaking my head, my eyes locking onto his with frustration. “I never did.”

“I know,” he repeated, softer this time. “But that doesn't mean I won't.”

“Why?” I asked, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “Why me? You're Thomas Morgan. You don't hook up with a girl and hang onto her. I've heard of your reputation, even before I knew who you were. Out of anyone you could get with…" Her eyes widened. "Is it because I'm… because I was with Nick? Is this some way to get back at him?"

"Do you really think that?" he demanded, anger flashing in his eyes.

I saw something else there too—hurt, maybe. It made me falter, just for a second.

"You're an instigator," I said again, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Why you would care. Maybe you enjoyed pissing Nick off. Maybe you enjoyed being with me to get to him?—"

Thomas clenched his jaw, his hand finding the side of my throat. The touch was both gentle and firm, his thumb brushing against my pulse. I should have pulled away, but I couldn't move.

"You can't possibly think that," he said, his voice low and intense.

"Then why?" I asked, my breath hitching. "You could have picked anyone. You picked your son's ex —"

"Maybe it's because I?—"

The door swung open, and Kara walked in, her voice filling the room. "Sorry about that," she said, glancing at her phone. "The editor for the Serpents wanted to see how..."

Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene before her—Thomas still holding my neck, our faces inches apart.

For a moment, no one moved. Kara's eyes widened as she looked between us.

I finally found the strength to pull away from Thomas's grip, but the connection lingered in the air like a charged current.

"Ally?" Kara asked, her voice laced with confusion and concern.

"I… We were just talking," I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Thomas stepped back, his expression unreadable but the intensity in his eyes still burning bright.

Kara cleared her throat awkwardly. "Right. Well, we should probably get back to work," she said, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah," I agreed, my voice shaky as I tried to regain some semblance of composure.

Thomas gave me one last look before turning away, his jaw still clenched tightly.

"I took the shots you wanted, Kara," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "But I really have to get home. I've got an early day tomorrow."

Kara glanced between me and Thomas, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. "Are you sure? You seem?—"

"I'm fine," I cut her off, forcing a smile. "Really. Everything's covered."

Before either of them could protest, I grabbed my camera bag and slung it over my shoulder. I needed to get out of there before the tension suffocated me. As I walked towards the exit, I felt Thomas's eyes on me, heavy and intense, like a weight pressing against my back.

The hallway outside the event room seemed endless, each step echoing louder than the last. My heart pounded in my chest, a chaotic rhythm that matched the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I could still feel the heat of Thomas’s touch on my skin, the way his fingers had traced my throat like he was afraid to let go.

I reached the doors and pushed through them, the cool night air hitting me like a splash of cold water. It felt like I could finally breathe again. The city lights blurred in my vision as tears threatened to spill over. I wiped them away quickly, not wanting anyone to see me break down.

The street outside was quieter than usual, only a few cars passing by and the occasional pedestrian hurrying home. I kept walking, trying to put as much distance between myself and that suffocating room as possible.

In a blur, I grabbed an Uber and was dropped off at my dorm. I fumbled with my keys as I unlocked the door. Once inside, I leaned against it, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Get it together," I muttered to myself.

I made my way to my bedroom, dropping my camera bag on the floor and collapsing onto the bed. The events of the night replayed in my mind—Thomas’s intensity, his touch, his words. Everything felt so raw and overwhelming.

As much as I wanted to forget about it all, I knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. The feelings were too real, too powerful to just push aside.

But for now, all I could do was close my eyes and hope that sleep would bring some semblance of peace.