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“Office. Now.” My voice was rougher this time, laced with a finality that left no room for argument.

I turned, walking away before she could respond.

Because Iknewshe’d follow.

I stepped into my office,heart still hammering, the burn of practice coursing through my veins. The door clicked shut behind me, sealing out the rest of the world. I yanked at my laces, trying to shake the restlessness clawing at my insides.

Then I heard it.

A soft knock. The door creaked open.

Iris.

She stepped inside, shutting it behind her with a quiet finality that sent a slow, dark thrill through me.

I looked up just as she turned, fire burning in those green eyes, defiance warring with something deeper. Something that mirrored the same fucking chaos in me.

I was on her before I could stop myself.

I backed her up—hard—until she hit the wall. My hands found her waist, fingers digging in just enough to let her know I wasn’t playing.

Her breath hitched, her chest rising fast beneath her jersey. My mouth hovered near her ear, my voice razor-sharp.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Not a tease. Not a challenge. A demand.

She inhaled sharply, trying to hide the way it shook. “What’s your problem?”

I pressed in, just enough to feel the heat rolling off her skin. My grip tightened.

“Don’t.” A warning.

“Fucking.” A promise.

“Play.” A threat.

“With me.”

Her throat bobbed with a swallowed breath, fingers twitching at her sides. Then, slowly, her hands lifted—flattened against my chest. Like she might shove me away.

She didn’t.

Instead, her fingers curled into my shirt, holding on like she needed something solid.

Like she needed me.

Electricity shot through my body, sharp and all-consuming. The space between us pulsed—thick, suffocating, a no-man's-land we were both about to cross.

And neither of us moved to stop it.

I could smell her sweat—clean, sharp, laced with that faint hint of shampoo that clung to her skin. It mixed with the cold air, a contrast that only made the heat between us burn hotter. Her chest rose and fell fast against mine, every shallow breath pressing her closer, making me feel just how hard she was fighting this. Fightingme.

I slid my hand lower, fingers grazing bare skin where her jersey had ridden up. Warmth radiated from her, pulsing beneath my palm like a live current, and fuck, I wanted more. I could press her against the wall right now. Crush my mouth to hers. Take everything I knew she was desperate to give.

But I didn’t.

Because if I started? I wouldn’t stop.