Novels by Presley Didi

Jace's words soon become clear, a reminder of how quickly rumors travel around here.The whispers start before I even reach the lecture hall. People keep looking at me, then looking away real quick. Somewhere behind me, a few guys laugh—not a normal laugh, the kind that means they’re talking about you. A girl I don’t even know elbows her friend and points at me, grinning like she knows something I don’t. My neck gets hot, but I don’t let it show. I just keep walking like nothing’s wrong. Jace walks beside me, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something tense. “This doesn’t bode well,” he mutters under his breath. I don’t answer. I don’t need to. The second I step through the door of the lecture hall, it's even worse, in a way that the air in the room isn’t heavy, but the silence before the whispers start is. Like the calm before the storm.Then it happens — low murmurs, muffled laughter, the shift of eyes trying to act subtle but failing miserably. It washes over me in

I move with quiet precision, stepping into the kitchen as if I can blend into the background. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of something sweet—probably whatever Isabella has decided to fuss over this morning. She hums softly, swaying slightly as she moves between the stove and the counter, completely absorbed in her task.Dad is seated at the dining table, his posture rigid as he flips through a magazine. The way he’s holding it—like it’s more for show than actual interest—tells me he’s been waiting for me. But it’s Oliver, sitting at the far end of the table, who makes my breath hitch. He’s hunched slightly, scrolling through his phone, seemingly detached from the world around him.I want to believe that they are unaware of me, that I can slip out unnoticed, but the second my fingers brush the doorknob, Isabella’s voice cuts through the illusion.“Jude?”I wince, turning just enough to meet her curious gaze. “What’s up?”She wipes her ha

I swallow hard, forcing myself to breathe. Dad and Isabella are still talking, but their voices blur into white noise. Oliver stands there like a goddamn ghost, completely unfazed, like we’re strangers.Like we’ve never met.My fingers twitch at my sides. I can feel his eyes flick to me, but there’s nothing there—no recognition, no reaction. Just cool indifference.Is he pretending? Or does he really not remember?I barely register Isabella’s voice until her hand touches my arm. “Jude? Are you okay?”I force a nod, throat tight. “Yeah. Just—long night.”She smiles like she understands, but she doesn’t. None of them do. Dad watches me like he’s expecting something—an attitude, a fight, a reason to start another argument—but I can’t deal with that right now. Not with Oliver standing there, acting like we’re total strangers.“I’m gonna go to my room,” I mutter, already moving past them."Jude! Come back here." Dad calls after me, but I don’t stop. I take the stairs two at a time, push in

I jolt awake, head pounding like someone took a hammer to it. The air reeks of bleach and something fake—air freshener, maybe—failing to cover up something worse. My eyes blink open, squinting against the dim light.The room is dull. Beige walls, a cheap wooden desk, a TV bolted to the wall. A hotel. My breath catches. How the hell did I end up here?I dig through my memory. The pub. Drinking. And that guy—the one who kept watching me. Tall, lean, built like someone who knows how to handle himself. Sharp features. Eyes that pinned me down all night.A noise snaps me back. The door swings open. And there he is—standing in the doorway in nothing but boxer shorts.I go rigid.Our eyes lock. He tilts his head, amused. I shift under the blanket, and cold dread grips my chest. I’m naked. Completely.My pulse kicks into overdrive.“What the—” My voice cracks as I bolt upright, yanking the blanket around me. “Where are my clothes?”He lifts an eyebrow, then nods toward the bathroom. No words,