All Chapters of Dorm Room Desires: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

SAMANTHA’S POV The arena lights burned brighter than usual on championship rematch night, turning the court into a stage where every move would be dissected by scouts, coaches, and the entire campus watching the live stream. I sat in the upper stands with Angelina, my hoodie pulled low over my curls, a neutral seat far from the team section. My parents had demanded I attend but stay invisible. Dr. Patel had sent a final warning email that morning: “Any visible association with Mr Adams during the event will be noted in your probation file.” My hands trembled as I clutched my phone. Wesley had texted me before warm-ups. Wesley: I’m playing for you tonight. Win or lose, come to the locker room exit after. I need you. I hadn’t replied. The guilt over the last few weeks sat heavy in my chest- the stolen nights, the lies to my advisor, the way Donald still nodded at me in group meetings with quiet understanding that made me feel even worse. Angelina nudged me with her elbow. “You’re sh

SAMANTHA’S POVThe train from London to Manchester rattled steadily through the English countryside, the wheels clicking over tracks like a metronome counting down the last moments of my old life. I sat by the window in a quiet carriage, my suitcase wedged between my legs, a half-finished postcolonial lit essay open on my laptop that I hadn’t touched in two hours. The screen had gone dark long ago. Outside, fields blurred past under grey skies, but my mind was fixed on the city ahead- Evergreen University, the place I had almost lost everything for.Three weeks. That was how long I had been back in London, living under my parents’ roof again, attending remote lectures, writing essays at the kitchen table while Mum hovered and Dad checked my browser history. The scholarship appeal had taken longer than expected, but a sympathetic letter from Professor Hargrove and my improved grades had finally swayed the board. Partial reinstatement. Probation extended for the rest of the semester. On

SAMANTHA’S POVThe days after the final board review stretched into a strange new normal that still felt fragile, like glass that could shatter if we breathed too hard. I woke up most mornings in Wesley’s bed now, the sheets tangled around us, his arm heavy across my waist as if even in sleep he was afraid I might slip away again. The flat smelled like coffee and the faint trace of his soap mixed with the lingering scent of last night’s passion. My body was a map of him; faint bruises on my hips from his grip, love bites hidden under my hoodie, the pleasant ache between my legs that reminded me how many times he had taken me.This morning was no different. I stirred at 7:15 AM, the alarm on my phone vibrating silently on the nightstand. Wesley’s breathing was deep and steady behind me, his chest warm against my back. I tried to slip out quietly, but his arm tightened.“Stay,” he murmured, voice gravelly with sleep. His hand slid down my stomach, fingers dipping between my legs, findin

WESLEY’S POVThe gym lights buzzed overhead like angry hornets as I ran suicide drills for the third time that afternoon. My legs burned, lungs screaming, but Coach stood on the sideline with his arms crossed, whistling between his teeth. “Again, Adams! You’re moving like you’ve got lead in your shoes. Scholarship athletes don’t get to slack because they’re distracted by pussy.”The team snickered. I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, feet pounding the polished floor. Sweat poured down my back, soaking my practice jersey. Every sprint reminded me of the email I’d received that morning from the athletic department: “Final scholarship review in two weeks. Academic performance, on-court leadership, and off-court conduct will all be factored. Recent incidents have raised concerns.”Samantha. The board. The rumours that still lingered like smoke even after Lisa’s expulsion. I had won the rematch MVP, but Coach was still riding me because of the drama. One more slip and my ride out of this

WESLEY’S POVThe athletic department email hit my inbox at 6:42 AM like a fast break to the ribs. I read it twice while Samantha slept curled against my side, her naked body warm and soft, one leg thrown over mine. The words didn’t change.“Final scholarship performance review scheduled for next Friday. All athletic scholarship recipients must demonstrate academic eligibility, on-court leadership, and off-court conduct consistent with university standards. Recent reports of personal distractions have been noted. Failure to meet criteria will result in immediate termination of funding.”I closed the laptop and stared at the ceiling. Coach had warned me. The team had lost the last two games partly because my head wasn’t fully in it. Samantha stirred beside me, her curls tickling my chest, her hand resting low on my stomach. Even in sleep she reached for me. That should have been enough. But the sword hanging over my head felt sharper than ever.I slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on sh