The closer Ava and Nicholas got to the quad, the louder the noise became.
Not music.
Not laughter.
Voices — tense, confused, angry.
Students were gathered in a messy circle near the fountain, phones out, some whispering, some filming. Ava's stomach twisted.
Maya spotted her instantly and rushed forward.
"Oh thank God, Ava!"
Nicholas stayed close, his hand hovering near her lower back but not touching — protective in a way that made her pulse jump.
Ava grabbed Maya's arm.
"What happened?"
Maya glanced nervously at Nicholas, then leaned in close to Ava's ear.
"It's about you."
Ava froze.
"Me?"
Maya nodded grimly. "Someone posted something. And it's… bad."
A cold chill shot through Ava's body.
Nicholas' jaw tensed. His voice was low, controlled.
"What did they post?"
Maya hesitated but pulled out her phone, screen already open to a campus gossip page.
Ava felt her breath lodge in her throat.
There, at the top of the page, was a blurry photo.
But even with the terrible angle, even with the dim party lighting — it was unmistakably her.
And him.
The kiss.
The kiss against the wall.
The kiss she had tried so hard to pretend didn't affect her.
The kiss that wasn't supposed to be anyone's business.
The caption punched her in the chest:
"Westbridge's Ice Queen melts for Wolfe?
Guess we know why the new girl's been acting strange ;)"
Ava's breath broke.
Her fingers curled tight.
Oh god.
People weren't looking at the post.
People were looking at her.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"That's her."
"Did you see the video?"
"She really hooked Wolfe?"
"Thought he didn't do repeats…"
Ava's throat closed. "This can't be real… Maya, this can't—"
"It gets worse," Maya whispered.
Her hands shook as she swiped.
Another post.
"Looks like Wolfe found his latest toy.
Place your bets: One week? Two?"
A sick wave rolled through Ava.
She felt exposed. Humiliated. Violated.
Nicholas stepped forward, taking Maya's phone with a sharp, almost dangerous movement.
His eyes scanned the screen.
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
He looked furious.
Not irritated.
Not annoyed.
Furious.
He exhaled through his nose, slow and deadly.
"Who runs this page?"
Maya shook her head. "No one knows. It's anonymous. People send stuff in."
Nicholas's voice dropped into something low enough to make the hairs on Ava's arm rise.
"They posted a video of her without her consent?"
Maya nodded, wide-eyed.
Ava's chest caved inward.
"I shouldn't have gone to that party. I should've just—"
"Stop." Nicholas moved in front of her immediately.
Ava blinked up at him through blurry eyes.
His face softened slightly, but his voice didn't.
"Ava, look at me."
She did.
He wasn't angry at her.
He wasn't disappointed.
He wasn't gloating.
He looked like someone ready to burn the world down for what they'd done to her.
"This isn't your fault," he said, each word firm, certain, final.
"They crossed a line."
Ava swallowed hard. "But everyone is staring—"
"Let them." He tilted his head, eyes burning into hers. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Her breath trembled.
Around them, the crowd kept murmuring. Someone zoomed their phone. Someone else elbowed a friend.
Maya stepped between Ava and a group of girls filming.
"Delete that!" she snapped.
Nicholas turned slowly — too slowly — toward the people recording.
They immediately looked away.
Ava had never seen him like this.
Controlled anger.
Cold, precise protectiveness.
Like the party version of him was gone and this was the real Nicholas Wolfe — the one no one messed with.
He turned back to Ava.
"Come with me."
She blinked. "Where?"
"Somewhere people can't stare at you like you're a headline."
"But—"
"Ava." His voice softened. "Please."
That word — please — undid her.
Maya squeezed Ava's arm. "Go. I'll handle anyone trying to follow you."
Ava let Nicholas guide her away from the circle, her breath uneven, heart pounding.
Only when they reached the empty art building hallway did he stop.
Ava leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"I can't believe this happened. I can't—"
Nicholas stood in front of her, close but not touching.
"Ava," he said quietly. "Look at me."
She did.
"You think that post bothers me?"
Ava blinked. "What?"
He leaned closer, eyes fierce and unshaken.
"That kiss wasn't something I'm ashamed of."
Her breath caught.
"And you shouldn't be either."
Ava's voice cracked. "But everyone—"
"Everyone can say whatever the hell they want," he said, cutting her off gently. "The only thing that matters… is what you feel."
She stared at him.
His protectiveness.
His certainty.
His refusal to let her blame herself.
And suddenly the humiliation, the fear, the confusion — it all tangled with something deeper, heavier, undeniable.
"Nicholas…" she whispered. "I don't know what to feel."
He stepped closer — too close — but slowly, giving her space to pull away.
She didn't.
"You don't have to know yet," he murmured. "Just don't shut me out."
Ava's chest tightened.
The world outside might be loud and cruel.
But here, with him…
It was quiet.
And terrifying.
And safe.
All at the same time.