“You literally took half the Ravens with you to the pub last week”
“I was introducing them to my new local.”
“You were showing off.”
His mouth twitches. “Maybe.”
Before I can respond, the door opens. Hannah steps in with a stack of photocopied sheets, pauses mid-step, and looks between us with a knowing expression she doesn’t even attempt to hide.
“Am I interrupting?” she asks sweetly.
“No,” I reply immediately.
“Yes,” Rory says at the same time.
Hannah’s eyebrow arches. She places the papers down slowly, eyes flicking between us, clocking proximity, tone, body language, whatever it is that’s clearly visible to everyone except us.
“I’ll leave you two to your… strategic discussions,” she says lightly, smirking at me as she turns.
“We are planning a raffle,” I say flatly.
“Mmm,” she hums. “Of course you are.”
She leaves before I can throw something at her.
Rory exhales a quiet laugh. “She thinks we’re… up to something,” he says.
“She thinks a lot of things. And we aren’t up to anything.”
He looks at me then in a way that makes my pulse skip just slightly. “Depends,” he says. “Are we?”
The air shifts a little and my pulse increases. I hold his gaze a second longer than is strictly professional.
“We’re planning a Christmas Fair,” I say finally. “Try to keep up.”
He nods, like he’s choosing to accept that boundary rather than push against it. Which is somehow worse.
That evening my phone buzzes while I’m halfway through folding laundry.
Hannah:If sexual tension was electricity, you two could power Oakwood.
I stare at the screen.
Me:We were discussing raffle logistics.
Hannah:You were leaning over a map like you were plotting world domination but in a sexy way.
Me:We were. Except not the sexy part.
Hannah:You fancy him.
I do not fancy him. He is nostalgic. Familiar. Slightly annoying. The kind of harmless, flirty banter that you have with someone of the opposite sex that you know is completely out of bounds.
I press my palms to my eyes and exhale. We are adults. We are co-running a school event. We are not… whatever Hannah thinks we are. And yet.
When I replay the moment he said“you’re good at this”,the way his voice dropped just slightly lower than necessary, the way he looked at me like he was actively choosing not to say something else entirely… I feel it again. That flicker. That hum. And I hate that other people can see it.
Chapter fourteen
