13. Oakley

Chapter 13

Oakley

A dim glow sneaks through the curtains, casting shadows along the walls of the large bedroom. I blink, trying to shake off the fog of sleep that clings to my mind. Where am I?

I turn my head, and everything comes flooding back. Jeremiah Blackwood, asleep beside me. His freshly showered skin glistens in the faint light, dark eyelashes resting against his cheeks as he breathes deeply. His hair is so short, basically buzzed completely off, and I miss the little curls that would hang over his forehead when we were kids. A pang of longing surges through me as I realize that I fell asleep on his bed in his t-shirt and now his scent is fused to my skin. I must have kicked my leggings off at some point because I'm currently swaddled in the soft, worn fabric with only my panties underneath. Glancing around and off the side of the bed, I see the gray fabric bunched up on the floor near the foot of the bed.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, my heart hammering in my chest. I try to slip out of bed quietly, but Jeremiah stirs, his strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me back into the warmth of the blankets. I need to get out of here because I can tell I'm not strong enough. It would not take much for me to fall back into his arms and let him hurt me all over again.

"Where do you think you're going?" he murmurs, his voice low but determined. His green eyes lock onto mine, holding me captive.

"Jeremiah, I...you need to let me leave. If you want to follow me around campus and act like a caveman, fine. But I can't sleep in your bed and cuddle with you like everything is fine," I admit, my voice wavering. The vulnerability in my word's surprises even me.

"Oakley," he says softly, his grip tightening around me. "I promise I'll make things right. I'll protect you. It's early. Come here." Jeremiah's hand slides down my back and over my ass in a maneuver that he's never done before in all the nights I spent in his bed as a lovesick girl. I expect him to shift again to my back, but instead, he grips my ass cheek hard enough to make me gasp as he pulls me into the heat of his naked chest and abdomen. His fingers only move to grip my leg, forcing me to wrap my leg over his hip. "Get some rest," he groans, pressing his face into the side of my neck, seemingly breathing my scent in.

A shiver runs down my spine as his breath ghosts over my neck. There's something thrilling about his possessiveness, about the promise of being cared for so fiercely. But at the same time, a nagging voice in the back of my head whispers doubts and fears. The dichotomy isn't lost on me. It's always going to be two vastly different sides of a coin.

"Who will protect me from you?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper. The weight of everything that's happened—my assault, Jeremiah's disappearance, the tumultuous emotions between us—feels overwhelming .

"No one," he snaps, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down my spine. "No one will ever come between us again, bunny."

I start to shove him away, but he rolls us over, pinning me beneath him and for the first time I feel for myself that the jokes about how big Jeremiah must be everywhere aren't actually a joke. He's thick, hard and hot, pressing against my hip. It would barely take a twist of my body for him to be pressing between my thighs instead. God, is this how other girls feel? Is this how it's supposed to feel?

"Oakley," he murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with desire. "Let me show you how much I care. Let me prove to you that this is real."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and it's not because I'm afraid of him or the intimacy he's sprung on me. It's because he's the only one I'm not afraid of touching me, and he's probably the most dangerous to my mind and heart. I blink, trying to hold them back, but they spill over, streaming down my cheeks like raindrops on a windowpane.

"Jeremiah," I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion. "You left me. You just…vanished without a word. I thought…I can't go through that again. It almost killed me. I don't know why you won't hear me when I keep saying it."

He remains silent, his grip on me unwavering. The room feels heavy, suffocating, and yet I can't bring myself to break free from him. My heart pounds in my chest, fear gripping me like a vise—fear of abandonment, of losing him again.

"Bunny," he says, his voice barely audible above the sound of my ragged breaths. "I don't ever want you to feel that way again. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Please," I choke out, clinging to my independence like a lifeline. "I can handle things on my own. I don't need you to protect me."

His grip tightens around me, and I feel the resolve in his touch. "You'll stay at the Blackwood house with me now. You can take as much or as little time as you like to process that, but nothing you say or do will change it."

My mind races, torn between the desire for safety and the fierce need for self-reliance that has fueled me for so long. But as Jeremiah's words sink in, a flicker of hope ignites within me, illuminating the darkness that has burdened my heart.

I decide I need some space to think about everything, and there's only one way to do that. "I'm going to be late for class."

Jeremiah groans in annoyance, but ultimately lifts his weight off of me. "You won't be late. I'll take you." He leans down, kissing me quickly on the forehead and then on the nose. "But if you think I'll forget about what I said about you living here, you're in for a surprise, bunny."

The moment Jeremiah's bike roars to life, I can't help but feel a sudden surge of excitement mingling with the lingering apprehension in my chest. Clinging onto him as we speed through the crisp morning air, I'm torn between wanting to pull myself closer and craving the independence that has been stripped away from me.

"Are you okay back there?" he calls over his shoulder, concern lacing his voice.

"Fine," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant despite the way my heart races in my chest. It's not the bike or the speed that scares me; it's the knowledge that I'm willingly placing myself in his hands when I've been fighting so desperately for control.

As we pull up to the entrance of the building where my first class takes place on the other side of campus, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable stares and whispers that will follow us into the building. It was the same back in high school, being seen with a Blackwood guaranteed you were going to be the topic of conversation. The gaudy architecture looms overhead, casting long shadows on the cobblestone paths as we make our way toward my classroom. Jeremiah's long arm swoops around me, tucking me against his side as if he knows what's about to happen.

"I've never seen him with a girl," a male voice snickers from behind us. I cringe inwardly, knowing that our arrival has not gone unnoticed.

"The Blackwood brothers don't do public dates. She's gotta be a cousin or something. No way they're fucking, and he'd bring her out in public," a female voice answers her friend. She's half right.

"Shut your whore up or I'll snap your neck in front of her," Jeremiah says, and he stops abruptly to look back at the couple. The guy turns, walking away without a word or a backward glance at the girl with him. She scurries to catch up with him and Jeremiah glowers down at me like this interaction has set the tone for the whole day.

"Sorry," I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "I almost forgot how you guys are campus royalty."

"Hey," he says, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. "Don't worry about them, alright? You're here with me, but you're not something to be gawked at."

I nod, touched by his genuine concern for my well-being, even as I struggle with the weight of my dependence on him. I don't say anything, mostly because I don't have the wherewithal to form any coherent thought about what's going on with Jeremiah and me.

The classroom is in sight, and he must realize I'm in my head because he stops abruptly, grasping my jaw in his big hands, forcing me to look at him. "Don't listen to anything you hear. I'd never keep you a secret. I will burn this whole campus to the ground to let every last person know that I am owned by only you," he blurts out, and I'm unable to conceal the shock that is undoubtedly showing on my face. I wasn't expecting him to say something like that to me, but his words hit me right in the chest.

Jeremiah must realize what he's said in the heat of the moment, because he masks his expression with a more neutral one. "Come on, you're gonna be late, bunny."

As we enter the classroom, I can feel the gazes of my peers following our every move, their curious whispers filling the air like static. Ignoring them is impossible, but I focus on the familiar sensation of my pen between my fingers as I slide into my seat. Penn is already in his seat, grinning at me like he's about to announce to the class that I'm pregnant and he knows which one of his brothers is the father. I would not put it past that funny fucker.

"Thanks for the ride," I say quietly to Jeremiah when he makes no move to leave the room, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in this strange new reality.

"Anytime, bunny," he replies, his hand resting on the top of my head for a moment before he drops a kiss to my forehead. The warmth of his lips lingers on my skin, igniting a flush that spreads across my cheeks. "I'll be here to pick you up when class is over."

"Damn, baby bro, I want a forehead kiss too!" Penn exclaims from a few rows back, causing the tension in the room to dissipate as laughter fills the air. The playful banter brings a smile to my face, momentarily easing the turmoil inside me.

"Get in line, pennywise," Jeremiah retorts with a smirk, playfully flipping him off. For a moment, I almost forget about the lingering uncertainty and dread within me.

"Alright, alright, settle down everyone." The professor attempts to regain control of the classroom. "If the Blackwoods would be ever so kind to wrap it up, we have a lot to cover today."

As Jeremiah makes his way toward the door, he casts one last glance over his shoulder at me. I can almost feel the weight of his gaze, a look of protectiveness and desire that seems to anchor me to my seat. He offers me a small nod before disappearing into the hallway, leaving me both relieved and bereft at the same time.

I shift my attention back to the lecture, trying to focus on the professor's words. But it's no use; my thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and unanswered questions.

My hand trembles slightly as I scribble notes, the pen scratching against the paper like a whisper of doubt. I can't help but wonder if accepting Jeremiah's offer to ride with him this morning was a mistake, or if allowing him back into my life will only lead to more heartache. I don't know who I'm trying to fool, heartache and the Blackwood name go hand in hand.

Like I had a choice. I roll my eyes at the thought. Jeremiah Blackwood is not easily swayed.

As the minutes tick by, the laughter fades, and the atmosphere in the room returns to its usual studious calm. Professor Whittier concludes his lecture and leaves us to quietly work on our assignment.

I glance up from my notebook, only to find the professor standing by the door, his eyes wide in surprise as he holds it open.

"Delivery for Oakley Ashford," says the delivery person, a young woman dressed in a crisp uniform, her hands full with an extravagant bouquet of pink and white flowers.

My heart skips a beat at the sound of my name, and a wave of heat washes over me as every pair of eyes in the room turns toward me yet again. The weight of their gazes feels heavy on my skin, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Uh, yeah, that's me," I stammer, raising my hand hesitantly.

"Looks like someone has a secret admirer," Penn teases, his voice breaking through the silence. His playful grin is infectious, and I can't help but smile back at him, despite the anxiety clawing at my chest.

"I have no idea who they could be from," I say.

"Maybe Jeremiah's just trying to outdo himself after that forehead kiss," Penn adds with a wink.

"Alright, settle down everyone," the professor chides, carrying the bouquet through the sea of desks toward me. My heart pounds in my chest, a wild rhythm that seems to mirror the chaos of my thoughts.

"Here you go, Miss Ashford," he says, handing me the flowers with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Let's try to keep the distractions to a minimum for the rest of class, shall we?"

"Thank you, professor," I reply, my voice barely audible above the clamor of my racing thoughts. The flowers are stunning—their petals soft and velvety beneath my fingertips.

Before I can gather my thoughts, Penn reaches over and snatches the card from the bouquet. "Let's see what the pretty boy has to say for himself."

"Give that back!" I protest, but he's already unfolding the small piece of paper, his eyes scanning the message inside. I hold my breath, waiting for the punchline, but instead, his smile fades.

"Uh, little Ashford," Penn says, suddenly serious. "This isn't from Jere."

"What?" My heart sinks. "Then who's it from?"

He hesitates before reading aloud, his voice low and uneasy. "I've been watching you, Oakley. Do you miss me as much as I miss you? Soon, we'll be together again."

A chill runs down my spine, and I feel sick to my stomach. This cryptic message, filled with longing and menace, is far from the romantic gesture I had imagined. The room seems to close in on me as fear takes hold. Is it from the man who attacked me?

I'm going to puke all over Penn Blackwood, and that's literally going to be my legacy.

My heart hammers in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears as I try to process the menacing message. "I don't know who could've sent this," I stammer, shaking my head helplessly.

"Are you sure?" Penn presses, his eyes searching mine for any hint of recognition. "Could it be some kind of prank? A boyfriend you're hiding from us from your old school?"

"Who would think this is funny?" I snap, anger flaring through me. The classroom is silent, everyone's gaze fixed on us, and I suddenly feel very exposed.

"Alright, alright," Penn says, holding up his hands defensively. "Just asking."

I swallow hard, forcing myself to breathe as I try to untangle my thoughts. Who could be watching me? Who would want to scare me like this? My mind races through a list of names, but none make sense.

"Little Ashford, you know I know a guy who knows a guy…" Penn trails off.

"Thanks, Penn," I say softly, my eyes flickering around the room. The bouquet feels heavy in my hands, a tangible reminder of someone playing a sick joke on me. "I just...I need to think."

As the professor continues with the lecture, I find it impossible to focus. The chilling words of the card haunt me, wrapping their icy fingers around my heart. I glance at the empty seat beside me, wishing Jeremiah was here. Despite our complicated history, I'd feel safer with him by my side. It doesn't matter that Penn is here. It's different. The only thing I know is that I need to toss these before Jeremiah shows up to pick me up after class because I need to figure out who they're from and what they want before Rem goes berserk on every male on campus.

I can only hope Penn keeps his big mouth shut until I can tell him myself.