Page 23 of Heartstruck

Alli

It’s been weeks since I kissed Jared, and I’m still unraveling.

I wasn’t supposed to feel anything, right?

But I can’t stop replaying the moment I stepped in, feeling so angry and protective catching him stuck under Ariel’s presence.

His body went from easygoing to rigid the second she appeared.

The way she tried to touch his arm, the way his jaw tightened…

I acted out on pure instinct and did what I thought was right—what felt right.

The kiss wasn’t supposed to feel so right, though. It wasn’t supposed to knock the air from my lungs or sink its claws into my chest, refusing to let go. But it did. And now, no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it.

I’m supposed to be using him. That was the deal.

Jared helps me get my confidence back, and I pretend to be his girlfriend to keep girls like Ariel at bay.

Simple. No strings. No complications. But now?

Now I’ve gone and made it messy. Every look, every touch has me spiraling, second-guessing everything.

Because honest feelings and bad timing? They make a painful combination.

I keep telling myself I still like Ethan, but let’s be real—I don’t. Not even close.

I shove the thoughts away and focus on the Harvest Moon Festival.

The campus looks like it belongs in a movie, with bright lights glimmering in the dry autumn air, the scent of caramel and popcorn swirling around, and bursts of laughter everywhere I turn.

This is the perfect opportunity to clear my head, to stress over something simple like my volunteer shift today.

The photo booth is the perfect distraction. With Olivia bailing for a sorority thing, I’m left to run it alone, handing out tickets and directing group photos. It’s repetitive and mindless, exactly what I need right now.

“All right, next group!” I call, flashing a smile at a pack of giggling freshmen.

But my mind isn’t here. It’s stuck in a loop, circling back to the one thing I’ve been avoiding.

Has Jared been thinking about the kiss? Because I have. Way more than I should. But we haven’t talked about it. He’s been wrapped up in football, and I’ve made it my mission to pretend nothing’s changed. It’s easier that way. Or at least, it should be. Too bad my brain didn’t get the memo.

“You make a pretty decent carny.”

That voice. My heart stutters, and even though I don’t turn around to see him, I know exactly who it is.

I turn slowly, half-expecting to find him leaning casually against the booth, but instead, he’s standing a few feet away, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his unmistakable grin plastered on his face.

I try to swallow the sudden heat creeping up my neck.

“Shouldn’t you be charming the crowd somewhere?

” The words come out too fast, as if I’m trying to overcompensate for the fact that everything about him is making me feel…

nervous? Ridiculously aware of how stupidly attractive he looks standing here, surrounded by hay bales and the oversaturated fall decor?

He steps a little closer, the space between us tighter than before, an unspoken challenge in his gaze. But neither of us says anything about it. Neither of us moves too much.

I watch his eyes flick to the side. Just for a breath, it feels like he’s avoiding me.

“Nah. Thought I’d see what the student life is all about,” he teases, stepping closer.

His grin feels laid-back, but there’s something in his eyes that makes my pulse go rapid.

It’s intense and a hint of curiosity. Like he’s looking right through me, peeling back layers I’m not sure I’m ready to expose.

Heat flares in my chest, my pulse hammering. He’s not just here to joke around.

I force a laugh, but my heart’s thudding in my chest. “Well, don’t let me stop you from winning a giant teddy bear or something.”

“Maybe later,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine. The tension between us is undeniable, sparking in the air like electricity about to snap.

This is what I hate about Jared, how he can say so little but still make me feel so much. He’s standing here, looking at me like I’m the only thing in this chaotic carnival worth paying attention to, and it’s driving me insane.

And the worst part? A thought keeps creeping in, one I refuse to say out loud.

Because if I let myself admit it, there’s no taking it back.

“So, when’s your break?”

“I don’t really get one, I’m the only one working this for the night.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes scan the crowd before landing on two scrawny freshmen.

“You two,” he calls, motioning them over.

They exchange wide-eyed looks but shuffle forward like they’ve just been drafted.

Before I can protest, Jared steps aside, sweeping his arm toward the booth like he’s presenting them with a royal throne.

“All yours,” he says, leaving them stiff and uncertain, like he just asked them to defuse a bomb.

“Jared, seriously?” I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t just—”

“Be ridiculously stubborn? Because you can,” he interrupts, flashing a grin. “You’re excellent at it, actually. You’ve been stuck there all night. Time to enjoy the carnival.”

“Enjoy the carnival? While those two destroy the photo booth?” I can’t help but glance back at the freshmen, who are already fumbling with the camera.

“They’ll figure it out,” Jared waves away my concerns like it’s no big deal. “Worst case scenario, they get some blurry photos. Besides, they owe me a favor.”

I roll my eyes but don’t fight it, letting him pull me into the busy crowd. “So, what exactly am I supposed to do with this ‘free time’ you’ve just dumped on me?”

He arches an eyebrow, a challenge dancing in his eyes. “How about I win you a prize? Or are you too scared to compete?”

I snort. “Scared? Please, I’m just trying to spare your fragile ego.”

He gives me a look of mock offense, but I can see the challenge in his eyes. “Alright, hotshot, let’s see what you’ve got.”

He steers us toward a nearby ring toss game, where rows of glass bottles gleam under the festival lights. Unbound laughter packs the atmosphere, and it suddenly becomes easy to forget about everything else.

Jared grabs a few tickets and casually picks up a ring. With that signature confidence, he tosses it, the ring sailing through the air before landing perfectly on a bottle neck.

“Lucky shot,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes.

He chuckles. “Your turn, unless you’re too intimidated.”

I snatch a ring and take aim, refusing to let him get in my head. The ring bounces off a bottle, missing by an inch.

Jared doesn’t say a word, but his smug smile says enough.

“Okay, beginner’s luck for both of us,” I say, grabbing another ring. “Watch this.”

The second toss lands perfectly, and I give him a triumphant grin. “See? I told you I’ve got this.”

“Impressive,” he admits, stepping closer to hand me another ring. “But we’re not done yet.”

We spend the next few minutes trading shots, neither of us willing to back down. The playful competition is just enough to keep things light, distracting me from the fact that we’re here, together, having fun like none of the complicated stuff between us even exists.

After a few more rounds, Jared finally wins the game, and the carny hands him an absurdly oversized stuffed animal. Jared holds it out to me with a mock bow. “For you.”

I take the ridiculous bear, shaking my head. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he says with a wink.

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile creeping onto my face. “Alright, what’s next?”

“How about some food?” Jared suggests, scanning the nearby booths. “I’m thinking of funnel cake.”

“Funnel cake, huh? I’m not sharing,” I warn, already feeling the excitement of sugary treats ahead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he teases, falling into step beside me as we head toward the food stands, the glow of the carnival lights and sounds of laughter following us.

He’s already in line for the funnel cake by the time I catch up. The lights from the food trucks light the path for the crowd, and the air smells of fried dough and powdered sugar. I watch him order, his casual confidence on full display as he chats with the vendor like they’re old friends.

I hug the oversized stuffed bear to my chest, which somehow manages to soothe my mind and heart at war. Somewhere between the fake smiles, lab sessions, and impromptu nights at my apartment, I let my guard down.

I let Jared in.

I glance over at him again, watching the way he effortlessly navigates through the crowd, the way he smiles like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s always been like this, composed and peaceful. It’s maddening.

And maybe that’s why I’ve been avoiding this—avoiding him, really—because deep down, I know what’s happening. I can feel it in the way my pulse quickens when he’s near, in the way my heart stumbles when he looks at me like I’m the only person who matters.

Shit.

The realization slams into my chest as I clutch the bear like it’s a lifeline. This wasn’t part of the plan. I was supposed to stay in control. But Jared… he slipped past my defenses so easily, without even trying.

I can’t do this. I can’t be the girl who falls for her fake boyfriend.

It’s cliché, ridiculous. And yet, here I am, standing in the middle of a carnival, hoping our hands will brush against each other, holding a stuffed bear, and trying to convince myself that I didn’t just lose the one battle I swore I’d win.

“Here,” Jared says, handing me a plate stacked with funnel cake, blissfully unaware of my internal spiral. “Dig in.”

I force a smile as I take the plate. “Thanks.”

He grins, tearing off a piece of his own funnel cake. “See? Isn’t this better than being stuck at the photo booth all night?”

“Sure, much better…” I manage, my voice sounds far too normal for someone who just had a life-altering realization.

I’m falling for Jared, and there’s no coming back from it.