Teyana’s POV
“Drop me here,” I said, the moment we got a decent distance across my dorm.
Jeremy’s bike, one I’ve come to know was a Ducati Davel 1260 rumbled to a stop, the sound vibrating up my legs even after he cut the engine. Well, I didn’t know about bikes. I had once looked it up online because it looked so luxurious. The price didn’t disappoint me. The boy was stinking rich.
I didn’t wait after climbing off. The second my feet touched the ground, I stormed off.
“Teyana, wait up.”
I wanted to keep walking, but my body betrayed me and stilled. I turned, and it almost hurt to look at him. He was sinfully magnetic in the morning light, his eyes narrowed under the growing sun, his hair still slightly disheveled from the night before. The bruise on his lips had darkened, and the memo
