Page 35 of Watching You

But then it hits me.

The kiss.

Last night.

His hands on my waist.

His breath against my cheek.

The way he looked at me like he was memorizing the moment before he claimed it.

My first kiss.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It washim, all heat and possession and the kind of hunger that made me forget how to count. His mouth on mine, coaxing me open, pulling me under. My fingers curled in his shirt, my body pressed to his like I was trying to disappear inside him.

I’d never been kissed like that.

I’d never been kissedat all.

And now I can’t stop replaying it.

The way he whispered my name between breaths.

The way he didn’t ask, heknew.

The way I didn’t want it to end.

I blink hard, trying to focus on the hallway ahead. But my lips still feel swollen. My chest still feels tight. And the jersey back in my room feels like a promise I don’t know how to keep.

I sit at my usual spot in the dining hall, corner table, second row from the windows, the one with the chipped edge and the view of the quad. It’s early enough that the crowd hasn’t hit yet, just a few scattered students and the hum of clinking trays. I scroll through my phone, not really reading anything. Just trying to keep my mind busy. Trying not to replay last night in my head.

Kane’s mouth on mine.

My first kiss.

The way it felt like surrender and ignition all at once.

I swipe to the next screen, then back again. My thumb moves, but my thoughts don’t.

A shadow falls across the table.

Micah slides into the seat across from me without asking, like he’s done it a hundred times. Like he belongs there.

I glance up, startled. “Hey.”

He doesn’t smile. Just nods toward my chest. “No jersey today?”

I blink. “It’s in my room.”

Micah leans back, arms crossed, eyes scanning the dining hall like he’s looking for something. Or someone.

“I wonder how many other girls will be wearing that number today,” he says casually. “Kane’s got fans. You know that, right?”

I stiffen. “It’s not like that.”

He shrugs. “Maybe not for you.”

I don’t respond. I just look down at my tray, suddenly nauseous.