Because I don’t understand what you want
The words hit harder than the missed shot.
I stare at them, pulse loud in my ears.
I want you to stop seeing me as a threat.
I want that dimple again—the one you didn’t mean to show me.
I want your yes.
None of that fits in a text.
KIERAN
Honestly? I’m still figuring that out
But I know I’m not done trying
I hold the phone like it might burn.
I want to ask where she moved from.
I want to know what her seven-year-old life looked like before it got packed into two lines.
I don’t ask.
I lock the phone instead, burying my face in my hands.
A knock on the door jolts me out of the spiral. “Go away,” I snarl before I can rein it in.
“It’s me.” Isabelle’s voice, smooth as silk.
I close my eyes, count to three, then unlock the door.
She slips inside before I can stop her, shutting it behind her. As always, she’s wrapped in something dark and expensive, pearls catching the dim light. Every inch of her is calculated to devastate.
“Running away from your own party?” She tilts her head, studying me.
“Just needed a minute.”
“Or you’re hiding.” She steps closer, perfume floral and sharp. “It’s also not like you to take this long to make a girl fall.”
Heat floods my chest—sharp, unwelcome.
“I have eyes, Kieran. The whole campus has eyes.” She leans against the sink, arms crossed. “Most men would be angry. But you?” Her smile curves. “You look sad.”
The word lands wrong.
I’m not sad. I’m?—
Actually, maybe I am.
“The bet’s off,” I say, surprising myself.
Her eyebrows lift. “Excuse me?”
“I’m done. Find someone else to entertain you.”
