Chapter 13

chapter thirteen

Zara

"Power Trip"— J.Cole, Miguel

I don't think I've ever been so angry in my entire life.

Actually, angry doesn't even touch what I'm feeling right now. Stabby is more like it, and I'm pretty positive my brother is going to be the recipient of said anger.

Davis has blood pouring from a cut above his eye, and Oliver has the audacity to look guilty, and I know that he's the one that caused all of this since he's not the one bleeding.

I don't doubt that Davis participated in whatever happened, but for it to resort to physical violence? No.

Hell no.

"I cannot believe you hit him, Oliver!" I hiss, trying to keep my fiery temper under bay. Sucking in a deep breath that's meant to calm me, but no such luck, I exhale through my nose. "I want to talk to you both. Not here."

It's at that moment that my idiot brother does a slow scan of the crowd that's gathered around them as if he's just now realizing that he's acted like a complete fool in front of hundreds of people with their phones out. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he nods. I then look over at Davis, who also nods, and I brush past them, pushing through the throng of people toward the back door of the Kappa house.

Once we're outside, I glance around the backyard and see that even though it's not empty, it's not nearly as packed as the inside of the house, and it gives us a bit more privacy. This conversation is happening either way, but I don't want to do it in front of an entire frat house full of drunk people.

I whip to face Oliver, months of pent-up frustration and exhaustion finally boiling over. He's got his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a contrite expression on his face, and it only makes me more angry. "I can't believe that you did this, Oliver. It's low, even for you. I told you that I didn't want you getting involved in my personal life, and what do you do? Get into a fight with someone I'm seeing. Not only did you completely disregard every single thing that I asked you, you jeopardized both of your careers when Davis has done nothing wrong. You really said fuck my boundaries, huh? They don't mean shit to you and your agenda. It just shows me that you have no respect for me."

I realized that I'm not just angry that my brother hit Davis or that, once again, he's trying to control my life and make decisions for me, but his stupid decisions affect us all, not only him. "Are you okay?" I ask Davis, reaching out and grasping his chin so I can turn his face to the side and get a better look at the cut.

He nods. "Yeah, Trouble, I'm good."

"Okay. Can you give me a second?" I say quietly.

For a second, he hesitates, as if he wants to make sure I'm okay, but when I nod, he says, "Yeah, of course."

He gives me a small smile before walking over off the back porch and into the yard.

I turn back to face Oliver, who's now strangely silent when just moments ago, he had so much to say inside the house. "I'm tired, Oliver. I'm seriously just exhausted from doing this, and tonight was the final straw. I can't and won't keep doing this fighting with you. Even if it wasn't Davis, it would be someone els?—"

"Zara, he's a fucking prick, and I told you that you can't keep seeing him!" he interjects, his voice shaking with anger.

My brow quirks, tense silence lingering heavily between us. After a beat passes, I step forward until I'm nearly chest to chest with my brother, even if he's six two, and I'm five two in combat boots. My attitude is six five, and if there's anyone who knows not to push me to this point, it's him. And now that he has, he's going to listen to what I have to say. "Look, I understand you want to protect me and that when I dated one of your teammates in the past that it didn't end great, but that doesn't mean that you get to boss me around and try to control me." Pausing, I shake my head. "We had this same conversation weeks ago, and you clearly didn't hear a word I said. So, I'm done. I'm packing my stuff, and I'm going to stay with Harper. Indefinitely. And don't worry, I'll call Dad, too, and have the same conversation with him. Neither of you are going to make decisions for me. Behaving like this? Acting fucking insane and fighting people? That's how you lose me forever."

His eyes widen in disbelief. "Zar, you can't just move out . I'm supposed to look out for you, an?—"

"Yeah, and smothering me until I can't breathe is your equivalent of ‘looking after me,' Oliver," I cry, cutting him off. "Seriously, please listen to what I'm saying. You're my brother, and I love you. But you're suffocating me, and I can't do it anymore. You aren't protecting me; you're hurting me. I'm going home to pack my stuff. I want you to leave. This conversation is over."

Oliver's jaw clenches, and then his mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he closes it and then turns on his heel and disappears back inside the frat house.

I take a second to get myself together, brushing my hands down the front of my skirt. I'm so frustrated and honestly so embarrassed by what happened tonight. It's the second time my brother has embarrassed me with Davis, and I'm really over apologizing for Oliver's behavior.

I blow out a breath before turning to walk down the steps to the backyard. I see Davis standing near the fence, scrolling on his phone. He glances up as I approach, and I roll my lips together, scrunching my nose.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I keep having to say that when it comes to my brother, and I realize that he needs to be the one apologizing, but I'm so sorry, Davis. I can't believe he hit you," I whisper, stepping closer, shame lacing my words.

My brother, the psycho.

Has a ring to it, I think.

"Don't apologize. Sure, he started it, but I was talking just as much shit as he was. We've got our own shit to work out."

I nod, reaching up to brush my thumb near the cut, shaking my head. "Yeah, but he should have never hit you."

"Guys fight. It's what we do."

"I just don't want you to get into trouble with your coach for fighting. People had their phones out."

Davis's shoulder dips in a shrug. "It'll work itself out. I'm sure Coach will make us run till we puke, but it's not the first time someone from the team has fought, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

"You know, you're being strangely blasé about all of this," I say as I cross my arms over my chest, a teasing smile curving my lips. "I honestly expected you to be, I don't know, angry? My brother punched you."

"I probably would've punched him back if you hadn't shown up. I was pissed, but it doesn't really do any good to be mad about it. If shit hits the fan with Coach, then I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

"I may have overheard some of the conversation before punches were thrown." I grin, peering up at him through my lashes. He reaches for me and places his hand at my waist, sliding it to the small of my back before he pulls me toward him slowly.

There's a hint of a smile on his pillowy lips. "Yeah?"

I hum. "Mhmm. Something about you… liking me? Maybe?"

He chuckles, and the sound causes a flutter in my stomach. I've decided I like that sound way too much. "Maybe. I guess that depends on whether or not you feel the same way."

The truth is I asked myself the same question, and then I realized… there has never been a time since meeting Davis that I didn't like him. That he didn't make me laugh or make me look forward to opening a text message from him. I've spent the last few weeks deliriously happy, and so the answer to that question is definitely yes.

It was supposed to be one spontaneous, fun night that has turned out to be so much more.

"And if I do?"

His smirk widens into a smile, that dimple popping in his cheek with the motion. "Then, I'd say that I wanna date you, Trouble. I wanna take you to dinner, hold your hand and not give a shit who sees it. Kiss you in the quad, take you to parties and the entire room knows that you're mine. I told your brother that I liked you, and I meant it. I know that we said no strings, no feelings, but that didn't exactly go as planned."

He's not wrong. He doesn't fit into the plan I had for my freshman year of college, but then again, I've never really been great with plans.

I shrug. "Well, plans are overrated. Look at the night that I bid on you here at this very house. Everything about that night was spontaneous, and it was one of the best nights I've ever had. Who cares if it's not part of the plan… because I don't. I like you too, Loverboy, and if you want to date me, then I accept. But I have to ask that our first official date be at Magnolia's. It's only fitting, don't you think?"

Davis nods. "Whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets."

"Oh… is that what we're calling this? Sounds very official," I tease as I run my fingers along his jawline before I slide them into the hair at his nape.

"Yeah, I know you have that commitment problem, but sorry, Trouble…" He dips his head until his lips are a centimeter from mine, and I can smell the sweet scent of mint lingering on his breath. "I don't share."

"Perfect, because neither do I."

He chuckles against my mouth before his lips crash into mine, kissing me until my legs feel like they'll give out from the fire spreading through me like wildfire. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, teasing, stroking, taking anything and everything that I have to give.

It feels different than any kiss we've shared before. Maybe because now… he's mine.

Davis pulls back, cradling my cheeks in his palms as he stares down at me and gives me my favorite, flirty smile.

"I wanna scream about you from the rooftop, Trouble. What do you say about me introducing you to my friends? Officially."

It's been a crazy, emotional night, but somehow, just these few moments with Davis make me feel so much better. Just being around his laid-back, easygoing attitude brings me a sense of calm I didn't even know how badly I needed.

"I would love that," I say quietly against his lips.

His smirk widens into the most gorgeous smile that makes the dimple in his cheek pop. He laces our fingers together, then says, "Then let's go, Trouble."