Page 7

Rilee

The air outside hits like a shock—cool and quiet and so blissfully still after the chaos of the party.

I breathe it in. Try to let it settle me.

It doesn’t.

Caleb walks beside me, hands in his pockets, steps easy and quiet like he’s giving me space. He hasn’t said anything since we left, and I don’t know how to start. I don’t even know what I’d say.

Thanks for the rescue?

Do you think Hunter would’ve murdered that guy if you hadn’t stepped in?

I tug my jacket tighter around me. The night air pricks at my skin, but the heat from the party still buzzes under the surface.

Caleb finally breaks the silence.

“You okay?”

I nod. Then shake my head. “I don’t know. I just… didn’t expect that.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, voice low. “He crossed a line.”

“Yeah, but…” I trail off. “Was I asking for it?”

His steps falter. “No. Rilee—no. Don’t even think that.”

I stare at the sidewalk, teeth sunk into my bottom lip. My heart’s still racing, and I don’t know if it’s from Luke’s wandering hands or from the way Hunter looked at me. Like I was something that didn’t belong to him—but shouldn’t belong to anyone else either.

And then Caleb, slipping in between us like it was natural. Like protecting me was second nature.

But so was Hunter.

And then there was Grayson—his gaze, cool and steady, like he saw everything and didn’t need to say a word.

I’m in over my head.

I’m so in over my head.

“You didn’t have to leave with me,” I say after a while.

“Yeah,” Caleb says softly. “I did.”

We walk in silence the rest of the way. My thoughts too loud. My body still wound tight. I’m tired, but not sleepy. Spent, but wired.

He holds the door open for me when we get home. Doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask what I’m thinking.

Just sees me.

“I’m gonna crash,” I murmur, even though I know I won’t fall asleep.

He nods. “Text me if you need anything.”

I turn to head down the hall, but something stops me.

I look back.

Caleb’s still watching me—smile soft, eyes unreadable.

And I feel it again—that pull. That quiet gravity he carries like it’s no big deal. Like catching me would never be a burden.

I almost say something.

I don’t.

I just slip into my room and close the door behind me.

And for a long time, I stand there in the dark, pulse still skimming just beneath my skin.

Because I’m not thinking about Luke.

Or the party.

I’m thinking about three guys who are starting to matter to me way more than I planned for.

The room is dim except for the soft glow of my desk lamp, and I’m curled up on top of the covers, still in my jeans, scrolling aimlessly through my phone like it might tell me what to do with all the static under my skin.

I should be winding down. Unplugging. But I’m not.

I’m still wired.

Still thinking about Hunter’s voice. Grayson’s stare.

And Caleb’s hand at the small of my back, grounding me like I might float off the earth otherwise.

There’s a soft knock.

I look up, startled.

“Yeah?” I call, too quietly.

The door cracks open. Caleb steps in, hoodie swapped for a fitted T-shirt that should be illegal this late at night. His hair’s damp. Barefoot. Like he showered and still couldn’t settle.

“Your light’s still on.”

I nod. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He pauses. Then closes the door behind him.

No pressure. Just presence.

“Me either,” he says, voice low.

I sit up as he walks toward the bed. My pulse spikes. He stops at the edge, eyes searching mine.

“You okay?” he asks again.

I nod. “Yeah.”

It’s not entirely a lie.

He lifts a hand to my face—just the backs of his knuckles brushing my cheek. “You sure?”

And I lean into the touch.

That’s all it takes.

He leans down slowly, giving me every second to pull away.

I don’t.

Our lips meet—soft, careful.

Then again. And again. Deeper. Warmer.

And suddenly I’m pulling him closer, hands fisting in his T-shirt, his body hovering over mine as he kisses me like he’s been waiting all night.

His lips are warm and sure, coaxing rather than demanding, but the restraint makes it worse somehow. More intense. He tastes like mint and something sweeter, something him , and I open to it without thinking.

His hands find my waist, sliding under the hem of my shirt like he needs to feel skin—real skin—to know I’m here. One of his hands curves around my hip, the other anchors at the small of my back, pulling me tighter.

His mouth moves down, grazing my jaw, the edge of my throat.

I make a sound—soft, involuntary. Need, or maybe relief.

And something in him slips.

The next kiss is deeper. Messier. He shifts, half-kneeling on the bed now, one hand cupping my face, the other braced beside me as he kisses me like he’s not afraid of breaking me anymore.

I drag him down with me, flat on the mattress, his weight pressing into mine in all the best ways. The friction is maddening. He groans into my mouth when I arch, like he can’t help it.

“Tell me if this is too much,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“It’s not enough,” I whisper back, and then we’re kissing again, slower this time but somehow hungrier.

His hands skim under my shirt, fingertips teasing along the bare strip of skin just above the waistband of my jeans. My whole body hums, electric and alive.

I tug at the hem of his shirt like I want to take it off—and I do —but the moment is already spiraling into something dangerous, something I might not be able to stop.

That’s when the front door slams.

Voices. Keys. Laughter.

The guys.

We freeze.

Our breathing is wrecked. My lips feel bruised, my shirt is half-wrung in Caleb’s hands, and I swear if he looks at me like that for one more second, I’m going to say screw it and kiss him again anyway.

He lets out a frustrated exhale, presses his forehead to mine.

“I’m gonna regret leaving this room.”

“Go,” I whisper, shoving at his chest. “Before someone sees your walk of shame.”

He laughs, kisses me once more—just a quick, soft press—and moves toward the door.

“Sweet dreams, Ri.”

I don’t answer.

I’m too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

He’s gone.

And I’m left with swollen lips, a racing heart, and the terrifying realization that this?

Wasn’t nothing.