She tasted like nerves and lip gloss and stubborn pride.
She gripped my jacket like she was afraid I’d disappear.
And for a second—I didn’t care who saw.
I didn’t care about alignment or bloodlines or donors.
I just wanted her mouth on mine again.
“Tris—” she breathed.
I almost say it.
Almost say, ‘Let’s not hide.’
Then the lights slammed back on.
Reality crashed in.
Voices.
Stares.
We were exposed.
Her lipstick smeared.
My hands on her hips.
Silence.
And I froze.
Not because I was embarrassed.
Because I know how fast Royal Oaks can turn.
I knew how cruel it could be.
And in that half-second of hesitation?—
Leo stepped in.
Laughing.
Clapping me on the back.
“Guess I owe you twenty grand,” he announced to the crowd. “Didn’t think you’d actually make out with the scholarship girl.”
The words hung in the air.
I looked at him.
What are you doing?
His eyes flicked to mine.
Cover.
