Page 31 of Watching You

Literally.

My shoulder hits his chest, and I stumble back, startled. He catches me by the elbow, steadying me before I can fall.

“Whoa,” he says, eyes wide. “You okay?”

I nod too fast. “Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t looking.”

Micah’s gaze flicks down to my hands. The jersey is still there—crumpled, unmistakable. His eyes narrow.

“That’s Kane’s number.”

I freeze.

He doesn’t say it like it’s trivia. He says it like it’s evidence.

“I—he gave it to me,” I say, voice thin.

Micah’s jaw tightens. “Did he?”

I nod again, slower this time.

He studies me for a beat too long. “You were in his room?”

I don’t answer.

Micah exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to stay calm. “Just… be careful, Blair.”

I blink. “Why?”

Micah doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His gaze flicks from the jersey in my hands to the flush still lingering on my face.

“He’s got girls lined up,” he says, voice low. “You know that, right?”

I stiffen.

“They wait outside practice. DM him like it’s a sport. Some of them brag about hooking up with him like it’s a badge.”

I swallow, fingers tightening around the fabric.

Micah leans in just slightly. “You think you’re different. Special. But Kane doesn’t do relationships, Blair. He does control. And when he’sdone, he moves on.”

I blink, heart thudding.

“He’s not built for softness,” Micah adds. “He’s built for winning.”

I want to speak. To defend. To say you don’t know him. But the words knot in my throat.

And then he walks away.

Leaving me in the hallway, jersey in hand, heart in my throat, and Kane’s voice still echoing in my chest—Just let me in.

I slam the door behind me and press my back to it, chest heaving. The room is quiet—too quiet. Kinsley’s not back yet from the dining hall. Just me. Just the chaos.

I drop the jersey on my bed like it’s burning my hands.

Then I start to count.

One. Two. Three.