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, ...