“A little physical contact sells the story, Rules,” he says easily, but his grip is firmer now.
“It’s fine,” I whisper, too thin to mean anything. Fine, no contact…or fine, let’s try?
He studies me, head tipped, eyes gone navy. His gaze hooks on my mouth and holds. His free hand lifts—knuckles under my chin; his thumb skims my lower lip. Not a kiss.
Intent.
It lands like a claim.
My heart sprints. I should move. Remind him Theo isn’t watching.
I don’t.
Slowly, he leans in, offering every out, and at the last second his lips land on my cheek, warm and careful.
The world narrows. Two beats—maybe three—long enough for my eyes to close, for my breath to catch, for everything else to fall away.
When he pulls back, cold rushes in. I almost sway toward him, caught between sense and gravity. My backpack is still slung over his arm. He adjusts the strap, then stops, like he’s lost the thread of what he was doing.
“You okay?” he asks, a beat late.
I nod too fast. “Fine. Totally fine.” My voice cracks in the middle, betraying me.
He smiles, that infuriating, tender thing. “Friday, two o’clock. Don’t flake, Rules.”
“I won’t.”
He hands the backpack back to me, our fingers brushing. “Return to owner,” he says lightly.
I back up the steps, pulse tripping over itself, legs shaky. He’s still there, watching me with that half smile, hands sliding into his pockets, every inch of him confidence and ease while I’m barely holding myself together.
“Sleep well, Rules,” he calls after me.
I manage a nod and slip inside before I do something monumentally stupid like touch my cheek where his lips were.
The door clicks shut behind me, and I lean against it, pressing a hand to my chest like that’ll somehow slow my racing heart. My cheek still tingles—a ghost of warmth I can’t shake.
This is about Theo,I tell myself firmly. Steady, safe, predictable Theo who finally looked at me like I exist.
But Kieran’s the one whose touch I can still feel. It’s Kieran’s voice still echoing in my head—steel blue and silver, calm and magnetic and impossibly steady.
My phone buzzes once. Then again. Then it doesn’t stop.
The screen lights up, flooding the dark room—Instagram, X, TikTok. Notifications pile faster than I can breathe.
I tap Instagram first.
The top post is from @BU_Confessions: a photo of Kieran and me crossing the quad, his hand wrapped around mine, both of us looking at each other. The lighting is perfect—golden lamplight, his profile sharp, my expression soft. We look…real.
BU’s golden boy is officially OFF THE MARKET
Who is she??? #OConnor #NewGirl #CoupleGoals
Three thousand likes. In an hour.
More posts wait below.
One at the library entrance, him holding the door, leaning close to say something that made me smile. Another outside the engineering building, his hoodie brushing my shoulder. And one of me on the dorm steps, him watchingme with that expression that makes my stomach flip all over again.
