I didn't say anything. I was both mad and embarrassed about what had just happened between us.
Caesar opened the car door and stepped out, taking his clothes with him. Without a word, he moved to the back of the car, opened the trunk, and rummaged through it. I had no idea what he was doing back there.
Then, out of nowhere, he took off running—straight toward the river.
Before I could process what was happening, he jumped in.
The river wasn't deep, just a spot where people hung out during the summer to swim and cool off. But now? It was freezing. He didn't stay in long, just enough to… what? Wash off? Sober up? Whatever his reason, he emerged moments later, shivering and dripping wet.
And damn it—he looked good. He was just So hott...
Water clung to his skin, highlighting every sculpted muscle as he stood there, completely naked under the moonlight. I felt heat creep up my neck, a blush I couldn't hide. I forced myself to look away, to stop staring, to focus on anything but him.
He made his way back to the car, disappearing behind the open trunk. I had no idea what he was doing, but I took the moment to gather myself. Grabbing my torn dress, I did my best to cover myself—not that it helped much. I managed to shield my breasts and between my legs, but that was about it.
A few minutes later, he reappeared—fully dressed.
Grey sweatpants. A zip-up jacket. He looked like he had just come from football practice, effortlessly put together while I sat there barely covered, humiliated, and fuming.
And then he had the audacity to smirk. He was enjoying this. The power dynamic. The situation.
I was struggling to find the right words to say to him at this point.
And worst of all? He was waiting for me to snap at him.
Even though I wanted to cuss him out, to throw accusations at him, I bit my tongue and kept quiet.
When he realized I wasn't going to say anything, the amusement slowly faded from his face.
"Uh… do you need anything to wear?" he finally asked.
"What do you think?" I snapped.
He chuckled. "I like you. I really like you."
I rolled my eyes. I knew he was just making fun of me.
After a moment, he added, "I think I have something you could use in the trunk. Do you want to come pick, or should I just grab something for you?"
"Get me whatever," I muttered.
He rummaged through the trunk for a bit before returning and tossing something at me—a yellow cropped sweater and a pair of boy shorts.
I stared at them. "Are these yours?"
I had expected oversized clothes, something of his. I knew they wouldn't fit me well, but at least they'd cover me.
He laughed. "I don't think my clothes will fit you."
"Whose are these?" I pressed. The clothes were obviously feminine.
He shrugged. "I don't know."
I gawked at him. "Are you serious?"
He sighed. "I don't know. Sometimes girls leave their things in my car, thinking I'll probably call them to get their stuff back. I just keep them."
I exhaled sharply.
"So… do you want them or not?"
Snatching the clothes from his hands, I glared at him. "Are they at least clean?"
His irritation flared. "I don't know."
Of course, he didn't.
"I don't think they'll fit," I grumbled.
"There's more back there if you want your pick of the litter," he added with a smirk.
I wanted to slap him. No—I wanted to strangle him.
But instead, I just threw on the sweater, hoping to get back to the dorm and forget this night ever happened.
As I put on the clothes, the sweater was fine, but the shorts… every time I moved, I winced. The soreness was no joke.
Once I was dressed, Cesar got into the car, fastened his seatbelt, and started driving without a word.
It took me a few minutes to realize—he wasn't heading toward the dorm.
"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning.
He glanced at me, then back at the road.
"You're not seriously a psychopath or something, are you?"
This time, he actually smirked. "What? You think I'm gonna kill you? Why wouldn't I have just strangled you back there? Why take you somewhere else?"
"I don't know… maybe to avoid leaving evidence at the crime scene? Maybe you're taking me to your lair?"
He just laughed.
Minutes later, we pulled up in front of a small pharmacy. He put the car in park and finally spoke.
"I thought you'd want something for the pain."
His voice was slightly hesitant, almost nervous—or maybe embarrassed. I wasn't sure which. Either way, it was… sweet.
But there was no way I was walking in there like this. Wincing and hissing every time I moved.
"I mean, I'd love to get something, but not while wearing this." I gestured at my borrowed clothes. "What if I run into the owner and they throw me out?"
"I don't think anyone's here right now. They're probably all at the party."
"Yes, but still…"
He sighed. "You know what? Okay, I'll go inside and get it for you."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Thanks."
He nodded, then got out of the car and headed toward the pharmacy.
I hadn't expected him to care that I was in pain. And just as my heart started to soften, I reminded myself who Cesar Blackwell was.
Minutes later—longer than it should've taken to buy painkillers—Cesar finally walked out of the pharmacy.
I expected a small paper bag or something. Instead, he was carrying a full-ass shopping bag.
I frowned. What the hell did he buy?
As he reached the car, he avoided eye contact, his face slightly red. That made me both curious and… a little nervous.
He handed me the bag. "Here."
Then he immediately busied himself with his seatbelt, as if he wanted to move past this moment as quickly as possible.
I blinked at the bag in my hands. "This is for me?"
"Yes. That's why I gave it to you."
"What is it?"
"I don't know." He snapped. "Why don't you look and find out?"
I hesitated before peeking inside, pulling out a few things to see what he had bought.
Then he spoke. "I asked the old man in there what you'd need, and this was the list of things he gave me."
I couldn't help but smile.
Inside, there were painkillers, chocolate, and even a tub of ice cream. A freaking teddy bear. And—pads? I had no idea why he bought those, but I could only assume it was on the old man's list.
Everything in the bag was… comforting. Thoughtful. The kind of things someone would buy for their girlfriend.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, Cesar snuffed it out.
"Don't go reading too much into it," he said.
I shook my head. "Of course not."
He turned to me then, locking eyes with mine, his gaze unwavering.
"Do not recount what happened today to anyone. And I mean anyone. You can't have me ruining my reputation—especially after keeping it intact for the past four years."
I scoffed. "So that's what these things are? A bribe?"
Something flickered across his face—something unreadable—before his expression hardened.
"Think of it however you want."
And with that, the air between us became tense again. Cesar started the car and drove me back to the dorm in tense silence.