“Did you do it? What did he—“
“Chloe, now!”
My tone brooks no argument. She sees the genuine terror in my eyes, and her expression shifts to concern. She nods, lettingme drag her through the throng of people and out into the blessedly cool night air.
The drive back to my dorm is a silent, ringing void. Chloe keeps shooting me worried glances, but she doesn’t press. When she drops me off, she just says, “Text me if you need anything.” I nod, unable to promise I will.
I practically sprint up to my room, my hands shaking so badly I can barely get the key card from my back pocket. The moment I’m inside, I slam the door shut and lean against it, my chest heaving. My solo dorm room, my fortress, feels violated.
I go to the sink, my movements jerky and uncoordinated. I avoid my own reflection, instead focusing on the stream of cold water as I wet a washcloth and press it to my lips. The gesture is useless. The sensation of his mouth on mine is seared into my memory; the initial firmness, the shocking heat, the way he took control. It was a kiss that wasn’t a question but an answer, a statement.
I went there to prove a point. I thought I was the one conducting an experiment, but the look in his eyes when I pulled away… that wasn’t surprise. It was confirmation, as if he was waiting for me to make the first move, to step into a trap he had already set.
My knees feel weak, and I slide down the wooden door to the floor, pulling my legs to my chest. I came here to get away from the world of athletes, to build a life where I was more than just someone’s sister. I built walls around my life and tonight, I didn’t just open the gate; I marched out and surrendered to the one man I should have avoided at all costs.
A sharp buzz from my pocket cuts through the silence.
My phone.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I force myself to retrieve it. The screen is lit up.
Unknown Number.
My blood turns to ice. It can’t be. There’s no way. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t have my number. My breath catches. With a trembling finger, I tap the notification.
The message is only two words.
You’re fast.
Three
West
The party’s noise returns in a dull roar, like the ocean rushing in to fill a sudden void. The space in front of me, where she stood a second ago feels unnaturally empty. My fingers are still tingling where they tangled in her hair. It was softer than it looked.
My tongue swipes over my bottom lip. Whiskey, mint, and something else. Something I can’t name.Her.
“What the hell was that?”
Nate, my winger, is staring at me, his eyes wide over the rim of a red cup. The brunette I was talking to—Ashley? Allison?—is looking at me with a mixture of outrage and hurt. I don’t register her expression beyond a clinical assessment. Her presence is now an irritation.
I ignore them both. My gaze is fixed on the front door, and the path she carved through the crowd as she fled.
Fast.
For weeks I’ve seen her in the library, hunched over a book, a dark curtain of hair hiding her face. Walking across the quad, always with a purpose, never just drifting. She carries herself with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ energy that’s more potent than any perfume. I’d made a mental note of her. An interesting variable. A flash of green eyes in a sea of brown and blue.
I just never expected her to walk straight up to me and light the fuse herself.
The kiss wasn’t a surprise. The surprise was the jolt. A raw, unexpected current that shot straight from my mouth to my gut. Her body went rigid, but for a split second before she panicked, there was a tremor. A surrender. I felt it. A flicker of heat that told me everything I needed to know.
She thinks she hates me. It’s written all over her. The disdain for the parties, the athletes, this whole scene. I think she kissed me to prove a point to herself.
Bad move.
All she proved is that she’s been watching me, too.
“West?” Nate tries again. “You good, man?”
