“Yeah. Need to hand in my mechanics report.” Sage didn’t look up. “You?”
“Bio lecture at one.” He grabbed a bottle of water, chugged half, then added, “I might hit the library after. Need to review enzyme kinetics before midterm.”
Sage glanced up then, a brief flash of gray eyes that hit Bryce harder than it should have. “You and your enzymes. They’ll survive if you take a night off.”
“Tell that to Dr. Franklin. Guy grades like he’s allergic to happiness.”
Sage laughed, and Bryce felt it low in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I’ll be gone most of the day.”
Sage shrugged. “Don’t party too hard.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t think my stomach could handle any partying right now.” Bryce grabbed his bag before Sage could see the flush creeping up his neck.
***
The air outside was cold enough to bite. Bryce pulled his hood up and headed for the campus coffee shop, hoping caffeine and noise would drown the replay in his brain. Sage. The kiss. The way he’d felt. Bryce growled to himself and stomped toward his much-needed distraction.
Inside, the usual crowd filled the small tables with students hunched over laptops, couples sharing pastries, and someone crying quietly into a phone. Normal life. Bryce joined his friends sitting at one of the tables — Mark, Dylan, and Harry — who were already deep in an argument about the new professor teaching Human Anatomy.
“Total nightmare,” Dylan groaned. “Pop quizzes every class.”
Mark smirked. “You’d hate him less if he wasn’t so hot.”
“He’s fifty.”
“Exactly. Hotandterrifying.”
Bryce laughed along, grateful for the distraction. They moved on to weekend plans, Valentine’s jokes, and who was dating who. He threw in a few sarcastic comments, but part of his mind stayed somewhere else entirely. A certain pair of gray eyes, a warm laugh, that tiny tilt of Sage’s mouth when he smiled. He tried to picture Layla instead. Couldn’t. Every time he did, Sage’s face intruded. He stirred his coffee, annoyed.What the hell is wrong with you?
Harry nudged him. “You look like you’re calculating the molecular structure of loneliness.”
“Hangover,” Bryce said.
“Right. The heartbreak hangover.”
“Something like that.”
The conversation drifted again, but Bryce barely listened. His stupid brain was busy cataloguing symptoms. Heart rate up, attention diverted, dopamine spike.You’re just having a weird rebound response,he told himself.Classic misdirection. Happens all the time.
He almost believed it.
***
That evening, Bryce stopped by the convenience store for snacks and a six-pack. The fluorescent lights made everything look harsher, even his reflection in the door glass. Same messy hair, same tired eyes, just a little more uncertainty showing in them.
Walking home, the city felt different to him. Muted, like he was half out of step with it. He thought about calling Layla, but didn’t. What would he even say?Hey, you were right. I’m emotionally unavailable, and I might’ve kissed my roommate.
He huffed a laugh that came out more like a sigh. He’d spent the day trying not to think about Sage but had ended up doing nothingbutthink about Sage.
At the apartment door, Bryce paused with his hand on the knob. Through the wood, he could hear Sage’s voice, low, talking to someone. Probably a group call with classmates. Bryce took several deep breaths, waiting a few seconds to get his heart under control before going in.
Sage glanced up from his laptop. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Bryce lifted the bag. “I have chips, salsa, hummus that looked fancy, and something labeled ‘party mix’ that I already regret.”
“Good. I’m starving.” Sage smiled, easy, unbothered.
Bryce managed a nod and went to put the drinks away. His heart didn’t get the memo. It was still thudding like he’d run a sprint. When Sage laughed at something on his screen, Bryce’s mind betrayed him again, replaying the sound against the memory of that kiss, how close they’d been, how natural it had felt for one dizzying second.
