And there was no going back.
Chapter 15: Liam
We crossed Kingswell’s campus in silence.
Alex walked beside me, close enough that I could feel him there even without looking. Close enough that every few steps our arms almost brushed. Close enough that I could smell that expensive cologne he wore.
I kept my eyes forward, focused on the path ahead, on the mission. On anything except the way my body was reacting to having him this close. I focused on my anger instead.
One of his people did this. Someone from his perfect fucking school sent that video.
The anger should have made it easier. Should have burned out whatever this was between us. But it didn’t. It just made everything worse—wanting him while hating where he came from, what he’d chosen, what he represented.
Earlier, when Noah had opened the door and I’d looked up from my bed—seen Alex standing there in the doorway with those blue eyes, blond hair catching the hallway light, that dark jacket that fit him too perfectly—something had hit me so hard I’d almost forgotten how to breathe.
And all I could think about was the fact that he was right there. In my space. In my room. Close enough that if I stood up, crossed those few feet, I could touch him.
Pull him down onto this bed beside me. Feel the weight of him. Stop fighting this thing that had been burning through us.
It wasn’t just a thought; it was a need that was raw and physical.
Fuck.
I’d wanted to pull him down to me on the bed. Wanted to—
Stop.
I shoved it down. Forced myself to think about the plan. The server room. The USB drive in my pocket. Getting in and out without getting caught.
We reached the athletic building, an I pulled out the earbud, put it in, and called Noah on my phone.
“Testing,” Noah’s voice came through. “You hear me?”
“Yeah,” I said.
Alex fiddled with the earbud in his ear and nodded.
“Good. Go to the side entrance. South side of the building. The door should be unlocked.”
We walked around to the south side. Shadows everywhere. Street lamps casting just enough light to see by.
I found the door and tried the handle—it opened.
Noah’s voice crackled in my ear. “You in?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Security sweep finished fifteen minutes ago. You’ve got a clean window.”
“Got it,” I said.
Alex slipped in behind me. The door closed, cutting off the cold wind.
Inside, the building was dark except for emergency exit signs casting everything in red. The hallway stretched ahead—polished floors, framed photographs of Kingswell’s foundingfathers, mahogany doors with brass nameplates. Dean of Students. Director of Athletics. Vice President of Development.
This wasn’t just any building. This was Kingswell’s Athletic nerve center, where powerful people decided the futures of kids like Alex, and we were about to break into its basement.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
