Page 53

Iris

T he summer dusk wrapped around the bonfire, flames flickering and crackling like laughter from my teammates.

Their voices danced through the air, mingling with the smell of roasted marshmallows and the faint sound of music drifting from a portable speaker.

It should have felt perfect—this was everything I had worked for: the jersey, the team, the chance to be just a normal college girl for once.

But as I sat on a log, the warmth of the fire at my back, I felt numb.

The excitement that buzzed around me fell flat against my skin.

I watched as my friends tossed jokes back and forth, their smiles brightening with each shared moment, but I struggled to join in. Every laugh felt like a distant echo.

Brooke nudged me, her grin wide and infectious. “Come on, Evans! Get in here!” She motioned toward a group playing beer pong. They were competitive and carefree, just enjoying life like we were supposed to.

I forced a smile in response but didn’t move. The weight of my thoughts anchored me down. Knox’s face loomed large in my mind—the way he had looked at me earlier that day, that fierce protectiveness mingled with something darker I couldn’t quite grasp. My heart raced even now thinking about it.

“You good?” Brooke asked, concern flickering in her eyes as she studied me closely.

“Yeah,” I lied, even as a knot twisted in my stomach. “Just... tired.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she hopped up to join the game while I remained behind, half-listening to their chatter.

As another teammate cheered loudly after scoring a point, laughter erupted again around me, but it only deepened my sense of isolation. In this moment where everything seemed to align perfectly for everyone else, I felt utterly out of place.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that Knox was still too close yet impossibly far away. A part of me wanted to run to him—to bridge that distance—but another part reminded me just how much risk lurked beneath our connection now.

And so I sat there in silence while everyone else celebrated what felt like an impossible dream—a dream that was starting to slip through my fingers like sand on a summer breeze.

I sat on the log; the fire crackling in front of me, but I felt numb. Chris leaned in, his hand resting on the small of my back. It felt like a brand rather than a comfort. Every laugh that bubbled up from my teammates felt forced, as if I were playing a part in some scene that didn’t belong to me.

All I could think about was Knox—the way I had left him standing there earlier, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion.

The memory played over and over in my mind, gnawing at me.

He had wanted more; he had needed me to say something, anything to bridge the distance between us. Instead, I had run away.

“Come on, Iris! Lighten up!” Brooke shouted from across the fire as she downed another cup of beer. Her laughter rang out like music—a stark contrast to the heaviness that settled in my chest.

I forced a smile and raised my beer toward her. “Yeah! I’m having a blast!” But even as I said it, the words felt hollow.

I thought I wanted normal.

But now?

Normal didn’t feel right anymore. It felt shallow. A veneer of happiness painted over the deeper truths that churned beneath the surface. What I had shared with Knox—even hidden away in his office or behind closed doors—was real and raw and vibrant in ways this moment couldn’t touch.

“Want to play?” Chris asked, nudging my shoulder lightly as he gestured toward the volleyball net. He seemed genuinely interested, but all I could see was Knox’s smirk when he played games—his fierce competitiveness lighting up his eyes.

“No thanks,” I replied quickly, glancing away before he could see how torn I felt inside.

“Look at you, Iris!” Brooke teased, her voice bubbling with laughter as she nudged me playfully. “Finally letting yourself date! I can’t believe Chris locked it down.” She winked at me, a cheeky smile spreading across her face.

Her words felt like a knife twisting in my chest. It wasn’t just the playful banter that stung; it was the weight of their expectations. Everyone around me believed the lie, and that belief strangled me from the inside out.

I could see the glimmer of satisfaction in Brooke’s eyes—she thought she had unlocked some secret part of my life, that I had finally succumbed to what was supposed to be normal. But what did they know? They didn’t understand how heavy this pretense felt on my shoulders.

I watched Chris chatting with some of the other guys by the fire, his laughter ringing out clear and genuine.

He was everything they wanted him to be: charming, safe—a steady anchor amidst chaos.

Yet all I could think about was Knox. Every second away from him was a reminder of what we had shared—the heated exchanges behind closed doors, the way he pushed me to be better while also making me feel like I belonged to him.

I swallowed hard against the pang of longing clawing at my insides.

It felt like suffocation whenever I tried to smile and join in on their jokes.

Chris reached for me then, casually draping an arm around my shoulder as he laughed with a couple of teammates about some inside joke I didn’t catch. But when he touched me? It felt wrong.

“Hey,” he said softly, drawing my attention back to him. “You all right? You seem a little distant.”

I plastered on a smile that felt more like a mask than anything else. “Just thinking,” I replied lightly, but inside? My thoughts were spiraling deeper into confusion and desire—caught between two worlds that couldn’t coexist without tearing me apart.

"Yeah, well, don't think too hard," he murmured, his breath hot on my skin. "Wouldn't want anyone to question your happiness being with me."

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the bonfire gathering.

Laughter echoed around me, but I felt distant, as if the warmth from the flames could never quite reach my core.

Drinks piled up on the table, empty cans leaning precariously, each one a reminder of how quickly this night spiraled out of control.

Chris shifted closer, his body pressing against mine. I tried to focus on the chatter, but all I could feel was the weight of his gaze and the heat radiating from him. When his hand slid up my thigh under my dress, my breath caught in my throat.

I stiffened instinctively and pushed his hand away. “What are you doing?” I asked sharply.

He laughed—a low, bitter sound that made my skin crawl. It wasn’t playful; it was an assertion of power. This wasn’t about affection; it was about reminding me of our arrangement. He wanted to claim me publicly while hiding behind a facade of camaraderie with our teammates.

“Come on, Iris,” he whispered, voice dripping with challenge. “We had a deal.”

A chill ran through me as I caught his eyes glinting in the firelight. The possessiveness lurking there made me uneasy. I hated that I had allowed myself to be swept into this twisted game—a deal where I’d willingly walked into Chris’s territory and played along like everything was fine.

But nothing felt fine anymore.

“Chris…” My voice trailed off as his fingers brushed my inner leg again—teasingly close yet somehow infuriatingly far from what I truly wanted. A shiver raced up my spine as conflicting emotions crashed over me: anger, fear, longing.

“You know you want this,” he pressed further, his smile widening as he leaned closer still.

I fought against the pull of his presence—the way he made it so easy to slip back into comfortable routines and casual laughter while hiding behind the truth of what lay beneath our surface connection.

But tonight? Tonight felt different; tonight reminded me just how fragile everything had become since Knox entered my life.

“No,” I replied firmly this time, pushing back against both him and the dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm me.

“ We’ve got to sell this, right? ” Chris’s voice dripped with smug confidence as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “People are watching.”

I pushed his hand away again—firmer this time—but his grip tightened around my wrist.

“Don’t fucking embarrass me, Iris.”

His tone shifted, turning cold and demanding. The casual laughter of our teammates faded into the background as adrenaline surged through me. I felt my pulse spike—not with fear, but with fury.

Because I knew what this was.

I had seen it before—men taking because they thought they could. I swore I’d never let that happen again. Knox taught me better than that. He taught me to fight back.

“Chris, stop,” I said through gritted teeth, attempting to pull my wrist free from his grasp. The weight of his eyes bore down on me, a predatory gaze that set my heart racing for all the wrong reasons.

“I’ve held up my end. You hold up yours.”

The words hung in the air between us like a noose tightening around my neck. My stomach twisted as realization dawned; he was using our supposed relationship as leverage to keep me in line, to mold me into something convenient for him.

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to scream at him—to unleash the pent-up rage boiling beneath the surface. But instead of fear or submission, what burned within me was defiance.

“No,” I replied sharply, trying to break free from his hold once more. “This isn’t what we agreed on.”

His grip only tightened further, and he leaned in closer—his voice low and menacing. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

Chris leaned in—his breath hot against my skin, fingers sliding back up my thigh. “Relax. This is what you signed up for.”

The words slithered through the air, igniting something inside me that felt like fire and ice all at once. I shoved him—hard.

He stumbled back, eyes wide with shock, and for a moment, I thought maybe I had gotten through to him. But then his face twisted with anger, dark and ugly.