4. Jeremiah

Chapter 4

Jeremiah

T he moment hangs heavy in the air, like a suffocating weight pressing down on both of us. Oakley's bright eyes meet mine in an unforgiving stare, her golden blonde hair framing her face, and my fingers itch to reach out and move the strands that are trying to hide her from me.

She looks fucking beautiful as she sits tangled in the sheets of my bed. All soft curves and pale skin, begging to be touched, to be marked, to be made mine.

"No, I don't think it is what you actually want. You're irritating me by avoiding the damn question. What the hell were you doing at that party, Oakley?" The question rips from my lips, jagged and raw. The anger pulsing inside me isn't just about her being there; it's about the two years that have stretched between us, vast and silent.

She doesn't flinch under my glare. "I go to school here now, Jeremiah. It's not a crime to attend a party."

"Cut the bullshit," I snap, the frustration boiling over.

"Since when do you care what I do?" There's a challenging lift to her chin, that same stubborn tilt I remember too well. She would use it against me and her brother all the damn time.

"Since always, bunny and if you think we can just forget everything then you're delulu." The nickname slips out, laced with a possessiveness I've no right to feel. It also makes me smirk when I see the annoyance wash over her face when she hears it. But damn it, she's always been mine, even if she's never really been mine at all.

"Stop calling me that," she hisses, but there's a hitch in her voice. She's as affected by this as I am.

"Answer the question, Oakley. Why now? Why here?"

"Maybe I missed your charming personality," she retorts, the snark dripping from each word like honey, thick and sweet.

"Is that so?" My laugh is humorless, edged with the bitterness of our shared history. "Last time I checked, which was mmm five seconds ago, you couldn't stand the sight of me."

"Things change." She shrugs, but there's something in her gaze, a flicker of something deeper, darker, that makes my chest tighten.

"Change," I echo, feeling the weight of the word between us. It's loaded, full of unspoken truths and the ghost of whatever may have been between us years ago.

"Everything about you pulls me in, Oakley. It's always been like that. Even when I know it's fucking madness." The words spill out, reckless and raw. This girl, this infuriatingly beautiful fucking girl, has me tied up in knots, her name etched into my bones.

"Stop it, Jeremiah. Just...stop." Her breath catches, betraying the cool exterior she's trying to maintain.

"Can't do that, sweetheart. You walk into a room, and it's like everything else fades away. It's always been you." I'm standing now, the space between us just fucking electric.

"Jeremiah…" Her voice is a warning, but her body betrays her, leaning toward the heat radiating off of mine.

"Tell me to stop, Oakley. Tell me, and I finally will." It's a lie, and we both know it. I can't stay away from her any more than I can stop breathing.

But she doesn't say it. She doesn't say anything at all. And that silence is all the permission I need. I don't care how much I have to chase this girl. She's going to be mine. One way or another. I'll use every underhanded trick I can.

"It's none of your damn business why I was there," she snaps, her voice low but sharp enough to cut as she gets up from the bed. "You're not my father, Jeremiah."

"Clearly," I retort, "not your brother either but since you're here someone's gotta fucking look out for you."

"Fuck you," she hisses, her cheeks flushing with anger. Before I can react, Oakley rips off my hoodie, exposing her delicate skin. The sight sends a jolt straight to my groin, and I have to bite back a groan as she pushes past me to grab her dress folded up on the armoire and hurriedly pulls it on.

"Oakley," I say, my voice rougher than I intend, "you can't just walk away from me. You're going to tell me what I need to know."

"Watch me," she tosses back, a challenge in every syllable.

My hand shoots out, grasping her arm tightly. Her skin is warm under my fingers, but she flinches as if my touch burns her.

"Don't touch me without permission!" she snaps, her voice filled with anger and something more fragile.

I release her immediately, my own frustration boiling over. "Oakley, this conversation isn't over," I say, my tone hardening. "You think you can just leave me?"

She scoffs, but doesn't say anything as she gathers up the rest of her stuff.

"Do you really want to make me involve your brother?" I threaten, leaning closer to her. The mention of Royce brings a flicker of pain to her expression, quickly masked by another layer of stubbornness.

"Royce isn't part of this," she says through clenched teeth, though I can see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"Maybe he should be," I counter, my voice low and dangerous. "Seems like someone needs to look out for you."

"Get over yourself, Jeremiah," she spits back, grabbing her bag. "You don't get to play the hero and it's not exactly like you can call my brother up right this second, is it?"

"Haven't I always been that for you?" I ask, stepping into her path, blocking her exit. She can deny with her words all she wants, but we both know it's true.

"Move," she demands, her eyes narrowing at me, filled with a mixture of emotions I can't quite decipher, fear, anger, maybe even a sliver of longing.

"Not until you tell me why you were there," I insist, my voice unwavering.

"Don't hold your breath," she repeats, her chin lifting defiantly.

"Then we'll stay here all damn day," I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Fine," she hisses, her eyes blazing. "But don't think for a second that you can intimidate me, Jeremiah Robert Blackwood."

"Wouldn't dream of it. "

"Rem," she whispers, an edge of desperation in her voice. "Just let me go."

"Not until I get some answers," I respond, my voice softening slightly, though the determination remains.

"Fine," she says, voice trembling but eyes fierce. "You want answers? My brother's been absent from my life since you ruined it. You think you can just threaten me with him?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Ruined it?" I ask, my anger flaring up again. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't act clueless, Jeremiah," she spits out, her eyes flashing with pain and fury. "After that night, after Royce—" She stops herself, shaking her head as if to clear the memory. "He disappeared. Because of you."

"That's not fair, Oakley," I say, my voice low but intense. "You know there was more to it than that."

"Fair?" she laughs bitterly, picking up her phone. Her fingers fly across the screen, each tap like a punch to the gut. "I'm done with this conversation."

"Who are you texting?" I demand, stepping closer. I have no problem beating the piss out of whoever it is, especially if it's part of that little frat pack from the party last night.

"I'm getting a ride back to my dorm," she snaps, glaring at me, her dress clinging to her body in a way that makes my throat dry. But there's no beauty in this moment, only the ugly truth of our past, the craving and the hurt that festers beneath the surface.

"I'll drive you back," I tell her, because how the fuck does it look if I let a stranger take her back to her dorm? I shake my head. I still can't believe she's here on my campus.

Oakley's fingers pause over her phone, a slender brow arching in disbelief. "You think I'd get in a car with you?" Her laugh is sharp and haunting.

I lean against the door frame, arms crossed, trying to mask how damn much I want her to say yes. "We used to cruise around all the time, remember? My bike between your thighs, your hands gripping me like you'd never let go."

Her eyes flash. But she's not having it, not today. "That was then, Jeremiah. This is now. And right now, I'd rather hitch a ride with a serial killer than share a seat with you."

"Christ, Oakley." I rake a hand through my hair, frustration gnawing at the edges of my composure. "Fine, play it that way. But don't act like there wasn't something real between us."

"Something real?" she scoffs, stepping closer, her floral scent hitting me like an uppercut. "What's real is the mess you made. What's real is me wanting to forget every second I spent fooled by your pretty boy demeanor."

"Is that what this is about?" I shoot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. "Forgetting? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you can't stop remembering."

"Fuck you, Jeremiah." The words slice through the air, her voice low and lethal.

Her cheeks flush, a rosy hue that betrays her true feelings. She grabs her purse, slinging it over her shoulder with a huff. "Just pretend you never saw me last night. Let's be strangers. It's better that way. I mean you haven't noticed me on campus for weeks, so it shouldn't be too hard."

"Oak," I call after her, but she's already turning away, her golden hair tangled and flowing behind her as she moves down the stairs.

"Just stop," she bites out, her tone icy. "Those days are dead and buried. Just like whatever friendship we had. "

"Dead and buried?" I scoff, trailing down the stairs after her. "Funny, because it doesn't feel that way right now."

"That's because you can't let go." She shoves her phone into her bag, her movements jerky with frustration. "But I have. And I suggest you do the same."

I follow her to the front of the house, where the car idles impatiently. I mentally note that it's some dark-haired girl, so I don't need to bloody another bat right this second. She opens the door, glancing back at me one last time. Her eyes are full of emotion: anger, pain, maybe even regret.

"Goodbye, Jeremiah." Her voice is softer now, almost a whisper.

"I'll be seeing you around, Oakley," I tell her, knowing I didn't keep the cockiness out of my voice.

She slips into the car, slamming the door shut and blocking me out. The engine revs, tires crunching against the pavement as the car pulls away. I watch until the taillights disappear.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, before heading back into the house. I've been stuck in the monotony of my life and had packed her away in my head. But now she's back and I'm going to figure out just what the fuck is going on and what the fuck really happened years ago.