Chapter 103
**Sara**
I slammed the door shut, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. What the hell just happened? My ex-boyfriend, the cheating bastard, shows up at my door with flowers like some discount Romeo, thinking he can sweet-talk his way back into my life? Unbelievable.
I ran a hand through my hair, my mind racing. Why couldn't Matt understand that I didn't need him? Why was he wasting his time – and, more importantly, my time – with this pathetic attempt at reconciliation? It's like he thought our relationship was a scratched DVD he could just buff out and play again. News flash, buddy: this disc is broken beyond repair.
Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Tom! Holy shit, I'd completely forgotten about him in the heat of the moment. I pushed off from the door and hurried to my bedroom, praying he hadn't snuck out the window or something equally ridiculous.
Instead, there was Tom, lounging on my bed like he owned the place, a small book in his hands. Relief flooded through me, quickly followed by confusion.
"Oh, thank god, you're still here," I breathed. "I thought you might've-"
The words died in my throat as I recognized the book he was holding. My old diary. Shit.
"What the hell, Tom?" I lunged forward, snatching the diary from his hands. "What are you doing?"
He grinned, completely unfazed by my outburst. "Reading. And I must say, it's quite fascinating. Who knew you had such a thing for older men even back then?"
"That's private! You can't just go rifling through people's personal stuff!"
"Oh, come on," Tom chuckled, leaning back on his elbows. "I couldn't resist. It was just sitting there, practically begging to be read. Besides, I learned some exciting things about you, Sara Parker."
I groaned, clutching the diary to my chest like it was a shield. "Like what?"
"Like your intense crush on that senior... Sebastian, was it? The way you described him was quite poetic. What was it again? 'Eyes like molten chocolate and biceps that could crush a watermelon'?"
Oh god. Kill me now. "I was sixteen!" I protested weakly. "Everyone's a bit dramatic at sixteen."
"Mmm, true," Tom mused. "But I'm more curious about what happened with this Adonis of yours. Did he ever notice you're, and I quote, 'smoldering glances across the cafeteria'?"
"Oh god, can we please not do this? It's embarrassing enough that you read it, let alone quoting it back to me."
Tom's grin only widened. "Come on, Sara. Indulge me. What happened with this Sebastian fellow?"
I flopped onto the bed beside him, burying my face in a pillow. "Ugh, fine. If you must know, nothing happened."
"Nothing? With all those smoldering glances?"
I lifted my head to glare at him. "I gave him so many hints that I might as well have hired a skywriter. But Sebastian was about as observant as a brick wall. He ended up hooking up with some girl from his class and dated her for over a year."
Tom chuckled. "Ah, the tragedy of unrequited teenage love."
I felt my face burning hotter than a summer sidewalk. "Can we please change the subject? I'd rather relive my most embarrassing moments than discuss my teenage crushes with you."
Tom's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, but we've barely scratched the surface. Come on, hand it over. I didn't get to finish."
"Absolutely not," I clutched the diary tighter. "This thing is going straight into the shredder."
"Now that's just cruel," he pouted. "Think of all the juicy details I'd miss out on."
"Nice try, but this stays with me. Some things are better left in the past, buried under a mountain of embarrassment and bad hair choices."
"Alright, alright. I won't ask. Your teenage secrets are safe... for now." He winked, and I felt a flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
I tucked the diary away in my bedside drawer, making a mental note to find a better hiding spot later. Maybe I'd bury it in the backyard like a dog with a bone. Or better yet, launch it into space. That seemed the only way to ensure Tom wouldn't get his hands on it again.
When I turned back, Tom was sprawled across my bed, looking far too comfortable. His shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a tantalizing strip of skin above his waistband. I swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything else.
"So," he drawled, propping himself up on one elbow. "Who was that at the door? Sounded like quite the dramatic exchange."
I sighed, flopping down next to him. "Just my ex-boyfriend, Matt."
"What did he want?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. To beg for forgiveness, win me back with some sad flowers, maybe grovel a bit." I rolled my eyes. "He's about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face."
Tom frowned, his playful demeanor fading. "Is he harassing you, Sara? Because if he is, we can-"
I waved him off. "No, no, nothing like that. He's just... persistent. And apparently allergic to the concept of 'it's over.'"
"Ah," Tom nodded sagely. "So he's not harassing you, he's just... what? Almost begging you to take him back?"
I snorted. "Begging? More like whining. I swear, he sounded like a puppy that got locked out of the house. All sad eyes and pitiful whimpers."
Tom chuckled, his hand finding mine and giving it a squeeze. "And what was your answer to this canine serenade?"
I laughed, shaking my head. "My answer? Let's just say it involved a lot of colorful language and creative suggestions for where he could shove those roses."
Tom's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Sounds like quite the performance. I'm almost sorry I missed it."
"Trust me, you didn't miss much. Just me telling him in no uncertain terms that I don't want him back. He cheated on me for crying out loud. What kind of idiot thinks flowers can fix that?"
"Ah, the eternal optimism of the unfaithful," Tom mused, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my hand. "It's almost admirable, in a completely misguided way."
"Admirable? More like delusional," I scoffed. "I swear, he thought our relationship was a video game. Cheat all you want, just enter the magic code - in this case, sad puppy eyes and gas station flowers - and boom! Everything's reset."
Tom laughed. "You certainly showed him the 'game over' screen, didn't you?"
I grinned, feeling a surge of pride. "Damn straight. No extra lives for cheaters in my world."
"Good," Tom murmured, his voice suddenly low and husky. "Because I don't like sharing."
My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. "Oh yeah? And what exactly don't you like sharing, Professor?"
"You, Sara. All of you."
I shivered, heat pooling in my belly. "Well, aren't you possessive?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Not at all. In fact, I like it.
"Good to know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Tom's eyes darkened, and he pulled me closer. "Speaking of that cheater, Matt," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, "if he ever harasses you, you tell me. I'll take care of him."
"Oh, please. What are you gonna do? Give him extra homework?"
But Tom's expression remained serious. "I mean it, Sara. If he bothers you, I want to know."
I sobered up, realizing he wasn't joking. "Alright, alright. If Matt decides to go full stalker, you'll be the first to know. But I can handle him, you know. I'm a big girl."
Tom's lips quirked into a smile. "Oh, I'm well aware of that. But sometimes even big girls need a little backup."
I rolled my eyes, but his protectiveness secretly touched me. It was nice to know someone had my back, even if I didn't need it.
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