The In Between

2: Marking Territory

Theo was waiting outside her dorm at 7:00 AM sharp, leaning against the wall with a coffee in each hand. Andrea blinked at him, still half-asleep.

"Since when do you wake up before noon?" she muttered, taking the cup he shoved at her.

"Since today." His grin was all teeth. "First day of school, Andy. Gotta make an impression."

He slung an arm over her shoulder as they walked, his thumb brushing the curve of her collarbone in a way that felt deliberate. Too familiar. Too claiming.

People noticed.

Whispers followed them down the hall—"That’s Theo Whitcombe’s girl?" "No way, I heard she was—"—but Theo just laughed louder, tugging her closer like he wanted everyone to see.

History Class – Before Lunch

Caleb Greene slid into the seat beside her like he’d been waiting for the invitation.

"New girl," he drawled, flashing that megawatt smile. "Andrea, right?"

She stiffened. How does he know my name?

He leaned in, close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne—something expensive and citrus-sharp. "You’re sitting with the wrong crowd at lunch. Scholarship kids? Really?"

Andrea kept her eyes on her notebook. "I’m sitting where I want."

Caleb chuckled, low and warm. "Feisty. I like it." His knee bumped hers under the desk. "You know, I could show you around. Properly."

She didn’t get the chance to answer. The teacher walked in, and Caleb winked before turning away—but not before slipping a note onto her desk.

Lunch. Main table. Don’t make me beg.

Lunch – Theo’s Territory

Theo yanked her onto his lap the second she approached the table, his hands settling possessively on her hips. His friends—Ollie, Lottie, Felix—barely glanced up, like this was normal.

"Missed you," Theo murmured against her ear, lips brushing skin. His fingers traced idle circles just above the waistband of her skirt.

Andrea elbowed him. "Cut it out."

He just laughed, tightening his grip. "Relax, piccola. I’m just being friendly."

Ollie snorted into his soda. "Since when?"

"Since always," Theo shot back, grinning. He nuzzled Andrea’s neck, loud enough for the table to hear. "Right, Andy?"

Lottie rolled her eyes. "God, Theo, we get it. You’ve been obsessed with her since you were twelve. Move on."

Theo’s smile didn’t waver, but his fingers dug into Andrea’s thigh. "Obsessed is a strong word."

"Not strong enough," Felix muttered, flipping a knife between his fingers.

Andrea tried to squirm away, but Theo held firm. Across the dining hall, she caught Caleb watching them, his expression unreadable.

Then—

A hush fell over the room.

Vic Sterling had walked in.

He didn’t look at her. Not directly. But she felt it—the weight of his attention, the slow, calculating sweep of his gaze before he turned away, already bored.

Theo’s grip tightened. "Don’t even think about it," he growled in her ear.

Andrea didn’t get the chance to ask what she wasn’t supposed to think about.

Because Ollie, grinning like a shark, dropped the bomb.

"So, Theo. Heard your girl was getting cozy with Greene in history."

Theo went still.

Dead. f*****g. Silent.

Then—

He laughed.

It wasn’t a nice sound.

Andrea barely had time to react before Theo was hauling her up, his arm locking around her waist as he marched them out of the dining hall.

"Theo—"

"Shut up," he hissed, his voice dangerously calm. "We’re talking."

And Andrea realized, with a sinking dread, that Theo Whitcombe’s charm had just run out.

Theo didn’t stop until they were in an empty hallway, far enough from the dining hall that the chatter faded into a distant hum. He backed her against the wall, his hands braced on either side of her head, his body caging her in.

Andrea’s pulse pounded in her throat.

"Cozy with Greene?" Theo’s voice was low, rough. His breath smelled like mint and something darker—anger, barely leashed.

She lifted her chin. "He sat next to me. That’s it."

Theo’s jaw twitched. "And the note?"

Shit. He’d seen that?

Andrea swallowed. "I threw it away."

For a long moment, Theo just stared at her, his blue-gray eyes searching hers like he was trying to peel back every layer of her thoughts. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between them.

His lips crashed against hers.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was claiming—hot and demanding, his fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head back so he could deepen the kiss. Andrea gasped against his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping his shirt to steady herself.

Theo pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a rough whisper against her lips.

"You’re mine now. Girlfriend. Got it?"

Andrea’s breath hitched. A part of her wanted to shove him away, to remind him she wasn’t some prize to be won. But another part—the part that had spent years wondering what it would feel like to have Theo Whitcombe want her like this—melted into the heat of his touch.

She nodded.

Theo smirked, thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Good." He pressed one last, softer kiss to her mouth before stepping back. "Now let’s go make sure Greene knows who you belong to."

Andrea’s stomach fluttered—half nerves, half something dangerously close to want.

Theo laced their fingers together, squeezing tight.

And just like that, she was Theo Whitcombe’s girl.

Whether she was ready or not.

Lunch Aftermath

When they returned to the dining hall, Theo didn’t let go of her hand.

He led her back to his table, where Ollie, Lottie, and Felix were waiting with varying degrees of amusement.

Lottie arched a brow. "Well. That was fast."

Theo just smirked, pulling Andrea onto his lap again—this time with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. His arm curled around her waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her hip.

Ollie whistled. "Damn, Whitcombe. Didn’t know you had it in you."

Felix, ever the observer, just sipped his drink, his dark eyes flicking between Andrea and Theo with quiet calculation.

Across the room, Caleb Greene watched them, his expression unreadable.

And Vic Sterling?

He didn’t look at her at all.

But Andrea knew—somehow, instinctively—that he’d seen everything.

And that was far more dangerous.

By the time afternoon sports rolled around, the entire school knew.

Theo Whitcombe had claimed Andrea Sinclair.

The whispers slithered through the halls like smoke—

"Did you see the way he kissed her?"

"She’s not even that pretty."

"Bet she’s just a rebound from Lottie."

"No way, I heard they’ve been hooking up for years."

Andrea kept her head down as she changed into her hockey kit, the locker room buzzing around her. The other girls shot her sidelong glances, their conversations dipping to hushed murmurs the second she walked by.

Lottie Beaumont, leaning against the lockers with her lacrosse stick propped against her shoulder, smirked. "Congrats, Sinclair. You’ve officially made it onto the ‘Most Likely to Get Her Heart Broken’ list."

Andrea tightened her grip on her hockey stick. "I don’t need your approval."

Lottie’s grin widened. "Oh, I know. But you’ll want it when Theo gets bored."

Before Andrea could retort, the coach’s whistle cut through the tension.

On the Field

Hockey at Prescot was less about sportsmanship and more about survival. The girls played ruthless, elbows sharp, sticks swinging a little too close to shins. Andrea had played at her old school, but this was different.

This was war.

She scored twice in the first half, her muscles burning with the effort of proving herself. The sidelined whispers didn’t stop, but now they had a new edge—

"Okay, maybe she’s not just a pretty face."

Across the field, the boys’ rugby match was in full swing. Theo, shirt already mud-streaked and clinging to his chest, caught her eye mid-tackle and winked.

Caleb Greene, standing on the sidelines with a smirk, called out, "Nice moves, Sinclair! Ever consider switching teams?"

Theo’s head snapped toward him, his expression darkening.

Andrea ignored them both and kept playing.

After Practice

Theo cornered her near the equipment shed, still breathing hard from the match. His hands were rough against her waist as he pulled her close.

"Greene needs to learn his place," he muttered against her neck, lips brushing her damp skin.

Andrea pushed at his chest. "Stop. It’s just flirting."

Theo’s grip tightened. "Not to me."

Before she could argue, his mouth was on hers again—hot, insistent, like he was trying to erase the memory of Caleb’s voice from her mind. Andrea melted into it despite herself, her fingers curling into his jersey.

When he pulled back, his eyes were stormy. "You’re mine, Andy. Don’t forget that."

She didn’t get the chance to respond.

A slow clap echoed from behind them.

Vic Sterling stood there, lacrosse stick resting on his shoulder, his icy gaze flicking between them.

"Adorable," he drawled, voice dripping with disdain.

Theo’s arm tightened around Andrea’s waist. "Got something to say, Sterling?"

Vic’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Not to you."

His eyes locked onto Andrea’s for one terrifying second before he turned and walked away, leaving the air crackling with tension.

Theo exhaled sharply. "Stay away from him."

Andrea swallowed.

Too late.