He hasn’t stopped watching.
And every muscle in my body is wired tight with the satisfaction of knowing he saw everything—and the ache that says I wish it had been him instead.
I line up my shot, letting the ping pong ball roll between my fingers. The room smells like spilled beerand cheap chips, but all I can focus on is that familiar weight of being watched.
Next to the doorway, Todd hasn’t moved from his spot. He’s pretending to follow the conversation with a couple of the guys from the team, but his jaw’s still tight, and every now and then his gaze flicks to me like he can’t help himself.
I sink the shot—clean bounce, right into the cup—and Daniel whoops.
“Finally! Knew I picked the right partner,” he says, slinging an arm around my shoulders.
I grin, easy and loose for the crowd, but the truth is my pulse is still running hot from that kiss. From the way Todd froze across the room.
Janine drifts through the edges of the game with a couple of her friends, flashing me a wink as she passes. I toss her a quick smile, but I don’t take the bait. Not right now.
Instead, I keep my attention split—half on the cups, half on the captain I’m slowly driving insane. Every smirk, every laugh, every time I lean just a little too close to someone else, I know he’s noticing it.
I want him to stew.
I want him to want.
When Daniel nails the last cup, sending the other team groaning in defeat, I throw my arms up like we just scored the winning goal. The room cheers, the music thumps, and I ride that buzz of energy, but it’s not the game that’s got me lit up.
It’s the fact that I can feel Todd’s stare like a hand between my shoulder blades.
FIVE
TODD
Logan sinks another shot.The ping-pong ball arcs perfectly over the table and drops into the last red cup with a satisfying splash.
The living room erupts with cheers.
Daniel throws his hands up like they just scored the winning goal at Nationals. “Let’s go!” He spins and grabs Logan in a ridiculous half-hug, half-chest-bump that nearly knocks over the table.
Logan laughs—full and easy—and I feel it in my chest like someone’s twisting a knife.
He looks good like this, all flushed and bright-eyed, a little messy from the heat and noise. And he’s touchable in a way I can’t afford to think about.
I can’t watch this.
I shove my bottle into the trash and slip toward the door, weaving through a knot of girls giggling over selfies. No one notices me leave. Not that I expect them to with Logan drawing everyone's attention, I'm not the only one that is drawn to him. It seems like the whole room wants to be in hisorbit.
The blast of cool air outside is a relief, brisk enough to cut through the ache under my ribs. I jam my hands in my pockets and head down the sidewalk toward campus, the bass from the party fading with each step.
Maybe if I get to my room and crash, I can forget the way he hesitated before kissing her. Or how it felt like he was still looking at me when he kissed her back.
The door swings open behind me, and I hear my name.
“Todd!”
I freeze. My shoulders tense, but I don’t turn around right away. Because I already know whose voice that is.
I exhale through my nose and turn just enough to see him jogging down the steps, still riding the high of victory. His navy hoodie’s pushed up on his forearms, and his grin is unfairly bright under the porch light.
“Bailing already, Captain?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, shoving my hands deeper in my pockets. “Got an early skate tomorrow.”
