Page 45 of Under the Lights (The Big Boys of BRU #2)

Thirty Six

Sierra

Blinking slowly, I tried to get my eyes to open, my mind still hazy, muddled from sleep. The overhead fluorescents were too bright, humming with a quiet vengeance like they knew how much I hated mornings.

God, I loathed early mornings.

Who the hell had the idea that team meetings should be this early in the morning?

The campus halls were eerily quiet at this hour, like the world hadn’t fully woken up yet. Even the vending machine down the corridor made its usual buzz feel too loud, too alive for this hour.

It should be illegal to be awake right now, unless you were participating in extracurricular bedroom activities or stumbling home from a night out. I guess driving to the airport for a vacation was acceptable, too.

But nothing serious should be happening at this hour of the day.

A familiar, bulky figure rounded the corner down the hallway, and I involuntarily perked up.

His footsteps echoed down the linoleum like they belonged here — solid, certain — while I was still halfway dreaming. His hoodie sleeves pushed up, duffel slung across his back like some jocky morning mirage.

Fuck . When did that become a thing? With both our seasons in full swing, I barely saw him during the day anymore.

We were two trains on parallel tracks — same direction, same speed, but never crossing. Just close enough to catch the blur of each other in the periphery. Our lives were running parallel, a similar kind of madness and chaos, but never quite lining up.

I should have been happy that he wasn’t popping up everywhere like some fucking real-life whack-a-mole. But the truth was that I had gotten so used to it that it now felt like something was missing.

I pursed my lips in annoyance at the sting in my chest.

God, I was pathetic .

Dom’s grin widened as he approached, his white teeth flashing amid the dark red stubble.

“There you are! Almost thought I’d miss you. Here.”

He came to a stop, offering me a cup from the on-campus coffee shop — the same coffee shop that was a ten-minute walk in the opposite direction.

“Where’s your drink?” I inquired, gingerly taking the cup.

“Didn’t get one.” His smile never wavered, his eyes shining with happiness.

I stopped short, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “So you grabbed a bite to eat there?”

“Nope. Just popped in there to get your drink.”

“Oh, okay, so it was on the way! Lucky me.”

He chuckled. “Sure, yeah. It was on the way.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You should work on your tone if you want to actually convince me of something. And thank you.”

“See, I would, but since I wasn’t really trying to convince you, I don’t really give a fuck, Darlin’. My girl got her caffeine. That’s all I wanted.” He shrugged.

Heat rose to my cheeks. “Do you ever not say whatever pops into your head right that very moment?”

He pushed his tongue into his cheek, then nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. Matter of fact, you’re one of the few people I’m comfortable enough with to do that.”

I took a sip of my drink. Of course, it was perfect . Like every drink he’d ever bought or made me.

“How did you know I’d be here this morning?” I cocked my head to the side.

Dom shrugged. “Not gonna spill all my secrets, Darlin’. How else would I ever surprise you?”

“I hate surprises,” I mumbled, taking another sip.

Dom smiled lazily. “No, you don’t.”

He was right — I didn’t. “How would you know?”

“Because I know you,” he shrugged, piercing me with his gaze.

“No, you don’t,” I repeated with a scoff.

“Keep telling yourself that.” His easy smile persisted. Grabbing the back of my neck, he pulled me in for a quick kiss, and I willingly parted my lips.

He tasted like trouble, like bad decisions, like he could end up breaking my heart. And yet, I couldn’t fucking stop.

***

The tapping of keys filled the living room, quiet music was playing on the TV, and the concentration was slowly giving way to fatigue.

Dom had shown up, as he did every night, but I still had some work to complete for my classes, so he was patiently waiting for me to finish up.

I typed the last words for the night before shutting my laptop, letting my head fall back, and stretching my arms out over my head.

Dom, who had been sprawled out on my bed, scrolling through his phone, lifted his gaze and propped himself up on his elbows.

“You know, I was just thinking,” he said casually, which immediately put me on my guard. Dom was always straightforward, unapologetically so.

“You don’t say.”

He chuckled. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I? Anyway, I was thinking about … well, about what happened with your old sorority this summer. You never told me.”

My spine went rigid, and I narrowed my eyes. Where was this coming from?

“You just happened to be wondering about that?”

“Yup,” he blinked innocently.

“Well, I don’t wanna talk about it.” My voice came out clipped.

“Mmm … thing is, I heard some funny stuff from Jax,” he said offhandedly.

Curiosity reared its head inside me, my pulse accelerating. Could Dom unknowingly have gathered some crucial information? I had to ask, for science.

“Like what?” I tried to sound as unimpressed as possible.

“We were just wondering how they afford all that shit they do. Like all those luxury trips, how half of these girls run around with designer shoes and handbags, even though half of them are scholarship students. Just thought it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

” His gaze was fixed on me, intrigued, as though he wanted to climb into my head and unravel my every thought.

I froze. He was fishing . This wasn’t idle gossip — he was testing me. Watching my reactions. My brain scrambled for footing while my heart dropped half a floor.

Was this about curiosity or something more?

I forced a shrug. “Yeah, to be honest, I was always kind of too busy to notice shit like that.”

Did he know something? How much? Was he bluffing — or worse, trying to confirm something he already suspected? Was this another betrayal, waiting for me like a snake in the grass?

“Eh, it’s probably nothing,” he said with a shrug, brushing it off. “Just seemed weird, that’s all. But if you don’t wanna talk about it, I get it.”

“I don’t.” I emphasized, shaking my head.

“No worries, Darlin’. Now c’mere.” Dom crooked his finger, his smirk turning wicked, eyes gleaming with filthy promises.

***

Hot water pelted my back and shoulders, almost punishingly, and the thick, humid air filled the bathroom around me. My thoughts were racing, and I was in a full-blown spiral.

I wasn’t spiraling because of the possibility of him betraying my trust (again). I was spiraling because it made me realize how deep he’d gotten under my skin.

Closing my eyes, the hot water working to loosen my muscles, I tried to sort through my thoughts.

All this time, I thought the secrets were mine to carry. That the weight of what I knew, what I was still chasing down, was mine alone. I’d been so careful, trying to keep him at arm’s length.

Letting him in without really letting him in.

Fooling myself into thinking I was in control.

But he’d known. Or at least suspected. And he hadn’t told me. Which made me feel stupid. Exposed. And worse … vulnerable .

The very thing I swore I’d never be again, after the people I had trusted most, stabbed me in the back.

I was still picking up the pieces after the last time I had trusted all these people I shouldn’t have. After I got played like a dumb little pawn. After the girls I called sisters stole everything they could get their manicured hands on, with a fucking smile on their faces.

And now him. He hadn’t really hurt me — not yet. But he could. God, he could .

Because he was different. His initial lies of omission had already hurt, even though we’d barely known each other.

And that’s the most dangerous part — I don’t know how to protect myself from someone who’s already inside the walls I built specifically to keep him out.

***

The days were steadily growing colder, and the unusually cold fall was bringing heavy fog and brisk winds in its wake. My gaze was focused on the darkness rolling past as Dom’s red monstrosity rumbled along.

He insisted on picking me up all the time, ignoring my protests and the fact that I had been walking across campus at night for over three years.

I caught him shooting me furtive looks out of the corner of my eye.

He wasn’t pushing me, but I could feel a slight tension rolling off him. I’d been withdrawing into myself, trying to sort out the mess in my head, the warring emotions, and of course, he’d noticed.

At this point, I felt like he’d notice if I so much as used a different mascara. When it came to me, he saw everything — unfortunately.

He pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, shutting the truck off. Without its loud engine, the quiet of the night settled over us, cloaking us in tension.

The dash was still illuminated, casting a ghostly glow onto our faces.

“Maybe…” I hesitated but forced the words to come out. “Maybe you should just go to your dorm tonight. I think it would be better.”

“Better?” He echoed, his voice calm and collected. Suspicion coiled in my stomach. I’d expected him to react a lot more … volatile. Not physically, but emotionally.

“Yes.” I emphasized. “Better.”

“You think so?” His gaze was burning into the side of my face.

“Of course I fucking think so, or I wouldn’t have said it,” I snapped, my head whipping to the side to glower at him.

He pursed his lips. “Yeah, see, I don’t think you actually mean it.”

“And I think you’re actually an asshole. Who the fuck are you to tell me what I’m supposed to want?”

“Not what I said. I said, I think you don’t actually mean that.” Dom said, holding one finger up, his gaze boring into me. “You’re running again. Trying to push me away.”

I scoffed, righteous outrage burning through me. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“True, but that’s not the question.” He shrugged, then raised a maddening eyebrow at me. “The question is, why do you want to run? Again .”

If anyone was getting fucking answers, it would be me. I snapped. “How long have you known?”

“Ah.” He blew out a breath, nodding slowly. “Long enough to know it’s eating you alive. Long enough to want to help.”

At least he wasn’t giving me any fucking bullshit excuses or was trying to act like he didn’t know what I was talking about.

“I don’t need help.”

He raised his eyebrows, lips pursed, a look of tired resignation crossing his face. Like when you watched your friend text back their fucked-up situationship after blocking and unblocking them fifteen times prior to that.

How dare he.

“Right.” He sighed.

“I’m serious, Dom. Don’t fucking get involved.”

“You act like I’m trying to rescue you. Like I’m trying to play some white knight bullshit. I’m not, just as much as you’re no fucking damsel in distress.” He broke off, scrubbing a hand over his face, his fingers looking for the chain he was used to wearing.

The one still sitting on my nightstand.

“If anything, you’re the queen, and I’m the army you command. I will not move unless you order me to, unless you’re getting attacked. All I want is to stand by your side. But you won’t fucking let me.” His jaw ticked as he averted his gaze, staring straight ahead.

The weight of his words hit me like a physical blow. I sucked in a sharp breath, my chest feeling too tight to properly draw breath. Time and time again, he kept telling me he was all in.

And time and time again, I pushed him away. Yet, he was still here, his words proving that in fact, he did know me. Even worse, proving that this thing between us was long past casual.

I needed to get out of here, escape the confinements of this truck, escape the look on his handsome face, as though this whole conversation was tearing him up from the inside.

For once he refused to look at me, and he didn’t stop or follow me as I climbed out of his truck.

It felt like a fist had closed around my throat as I walked towards my apartment building. I turned at the last second. He was still in the truck, engine off, watching. He gave me a barely-there nod.

No pressure. Just presence.

And my heart clenched. How the hell was he always exactly where I needed him?

You’re not going to cry , I ordered myself. You’re not going to cry. Over a fucking man, no less.

Pathetic.

But my heart didn’t care about any of that, and his words replayed in my head, over and over again.