Chapter 6: Territorial

Zay’s POV

College was supposed to be a fresh start for both of us, but every time I saw Vee, it felt like I was walking into a war zone I couldn’t escape. The truth was, I didn’t want to escape. Not anymore.

That psych class was the last place I wanted to see some smooth-talking guy acting like he had a chance with her. I spotted him right away—tall, clean-cut, smiling like he owned the place. The nerve. That guy had no idea who he was dealing with.

When Vee laughed at something he said, my blood boiled. I didn’t think. I just moved.

I stepped right between them, blocking the guy’s view like I was the goddamn bouncer of her life. My voice dropped low, sharp, and cold.

“Hey.”

The guy blinked, caught off guard. His confident smile faltered. “Uh… hey?”

I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “She’s not yours.”

Vee’s eyes shot to me, wide and wild—surprised, maybe scared. That scared look hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t just some bully anymore. I was the guy who wanted her. Who needed her.

“I’m not trying to cause trouble,” the guy said, glancing between us like this was some twisted cage match.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Trouble? No. You’re just in my way.”

Vee shifted uncomfortably, and for a moment, I thought she might snap at me, tell me to back off.

But she didn’t.

She stayed silent.

The quiet between us was heavy, like a storm waiting to break.

After class, I found her outside the campus coffee shop, trying to disappear in the crowd. The same purple socks poking out from under her jeans—those ridiculous cat socks she thought no one noticed.

I wasn’t about to let her escape.

I followed her inside, and when she turned around to leave, I deliberately bumped into her, sending her drink flying.

Coffee splattered everywhere—on her books, on her jeans, on the floor.

She looked at me, eyes blazing with frustration. “Really, Zay? Now?”

I crouched down, grabbing napkins and frantically trying to wipe the mess off her jeans. My fingers brushed her skin, and a jolt shot through me. God, I wanted more.

“Why are you like this?” she asked, voice shaking, caught between anger and something softer.

“Because I care,” I said without hesitation. “More than I ever let on.”

Her eyes searched mine, trying to find the truth in the mess of my words. I saw the battle inside her—the anger, the fear, the confusion.

I was done hiding behind the bully mask. I wanted her, and I wasn’t going to apologize for it.

I wanted to tear down every wall she built around herself. I wanted her to see that the guy she thought she knew wasn’t the whole story.

And if it meant being dark, being possessive, being the guy who haunted her dreams and woke her up in the middle of the night—then so be it.

Because she was mine.

And I wasn’t giving up.