Page 89 of Well That Happened

Too fast.

Tooeverything.

I pivot on instinct and slip into the hallway bathroom, shutting the door softly behind me.

I lean over the sink, bracing both hands on the cool porcelain.

My lips are swollen. My cheeks flushed. I look—kissed. Thoroughly, irrevocably kissed.

What am I doing?

My breath catches as I replay it: the way he touched me. The way he said he’d wanted to for a long time.

I splash cold water on my face and try to pull myself together. It was just a kiss.

Except it wasn’t.

It was him.

Quiet, haunted, sweet-eyedhim.

Confessing his secrets to me.

My stomach twists.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door—soft, brief.

“Riles?” Grayson’s voice, low. Careful.

I close my eyes. My heart thuds harder.

“I’m okay,” I say, not quite lying. “Just needed a sec.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Okay.”

His footsteps retreat down the hall.

I stare at my reflection.

One kiss. One second. One guy standing in my hallway—quiet and steady and entirely capable of undoing me.

I flop onto my bed and open our shared thread.

?? HOUSE OF HOCKEY HUNKS ??

Me:Hey—just a heads-up. Fletcher has visitation this weekend.

It’s his first friends-and-family day, and… I don’t know.

There’s a pause.

Not long, but enough.

Caleb:You want to see him?

Me:Yeah. I need to tell him about California in person. But also—I need a ride.

Caleb:I’ll take you. You think he’s gonna freak about the Cali thing?

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