LOGINBailey POVMark's possessiveness didn't stop after Thursday.If anything, it got quieter but deeper. A hand on the small of my back when nobody was looking. Standing just close enough during water breaks that our shoulders almost touched. Finding excuses to walk past my side of the track when he had no reason to be there.I told myself to shut it down. Told myself to keep the distance I promised I would keep.But every time I opened my mouth to correct him, the words died somewhere between my brain and my lips.So I did the only thing I knew how to do.I buried myself in work.And the universe gave me the perfect reason to.The announcement came during the staff meeting the following Tuesday morning.The USATF Regional Championships were six weeks away. This year, they were being held in Atlanta.Coach Mercer stood at the front of the room, reading through the list of qualifying events, age categories, and entry deadlines. I sat in the back row with my notepad, taking notes, keeping m
Bailey POVDays rolled by after meeting Theodore Kingsley.After being coldly assessed by him, I found myself wanting to prove that he'd made the right call to reinstate me. That meant working hard at the academy and my private sessions with Mark.However, the boy seemed to have other things on his mind.Since that night at his apartment, something had shifted in him. I noticed it the following week at the academy during general practice. Small things at first. The kind of things only someone who was watching him closely would catch.And I was always watching him closely.It started on Monday. I was standing near the water station reviewing my clipboard when Mark walked over from Coach Kennedy's group. He grabbed a cup, filled it, and stood right next to me.Not near me.Next to me.Close enough that his arm brushed mine."You're not in my group," I said without looking up. "Go back to Kennedy.""Just getting water, Coach."He took a slow sip, his body angled toward me, his shoulder
Bailey POVThe week after Lola's interrogation, I buried myself in work.Training sessions with Mark stayed professional. Clean. Disciplined. He followed every instruction, hit every mark, and kept his distance the way I asked him to. No flirting. No lingering touches. No whiskey-fueled kisses on leather couches.We were coach and athlete.Nothing more.At least, that's what it looked like from the outside.On Thursday afternoon, we were at the college track running through a speed endurance session. Mark was on his fifth rep, driving hard through the curve, his form sharper than I had ever seen it.He was improving. Fast. His times were dropping week after week, and the raw talent I always knew was there was finally being shaped into something dangerous.I clicked the stopwatch as he crossed the line."Twenty-two flat," I called out.He jogged back, barely winded."That's a new best," he said."Don't celebrate yet. You've got three more."He grinned and turned back toward the line.T
Bailey POVI woke up on the couch Sunday morning with a headache and the smell of sandalwood on the pillow beneath my head.For a few seconds, I forgot where I was. Then it came back. The whiskey. The movie. The kiss.I sat up quickly, heart pounding, and looked around. I slept over in Mark's house!The apartment was still. His bedroom door was closed. A glass of water and two aspirin sat on the coffee table beside a folded note.~Take these. There's coffee in the kitchen. I kept my promise.My chest did something I didn't want it to do.I took the aspirin, drank the water, slipped on my shoes, and left before he woke up.The drive home was a blur of guilt and confusion and the ghost of his lips still sitting on mine.I showered. Changed. Tried to nap but couldn't settle. My mind kept circling back to the same place. His couch. His mouth. His hand on my face.By evening, I needed a distraction. So I drove to Lola's.It was our thing. Sunday evenings at her place. Bad TV, junk food,
Mark POVBailey showed up at my apartment at seven on a Saturday evening.She had texted earlier that afternoon, said she wanted to check my kitchen. Nutrition, meal prep, recovery foods. Part of her whole "I'm in charge of everything" plan. I didn't argue.If it got her through my front door, she could inspect whatever she wanted.The buzzer rang. I let her up.When she stepped inside, she stopped.Her eyes moved slowly around the space. The open floor plan. The high ceilings. The floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched across the entire living room, the city skyline glowing orange and purple behind the glass. The kitchen with its marble counters and stainless steel everything. The leather couch that cost more than most people's cars.She didn't say anything for a few seconds."This is your apartment?" she asked."Yeah.""You're nineteen.""I'm aware."She looked at me, then back at the view, then back at me."My first home was a Catholic orphanage," she said quietly. "My brother and
Mark POVShe thought she was in control.Sitting on that bench in Lincoln Park, laying down her rules, her conditions, her boundaries like she was drawing lines in the sand.No sex. No touching. No flirting.I sat there and nodded. Agreed to every word. Smiled when she told me to stop smiling.But here's the thing about lines in the sand.The tide always comes in.I drove back to my apartment after our conversation and tossed my keys on the counter. The place was too big for one person. Two bedrooms, open kitchen, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A graduation gift from my father, just like the car.Theodore Kingsley didn't do small.I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat on the couch, replaying every word she said.I'm in charge. Completely.The way her jaw tightened when she said it. The way her voice held steady even though her hands were shaking in her lap. She thought being firm would keep me at a distance.It did the opposite.Bailey Adams was
Sheila's POVIn the bathroom, the full weight of the situation hit me. I was drunk, alone, in a club I didn't know, and my cousin had vanished.I gripped the sink harder as another wave of nausea rolled through me. This time I made it to the stall, throwing up a little more. The tequila burned just
Sheila's POVZuki was straddling the blonde guy's lap, her knees on either side of his thighs on the velvet booth seat. Their mouths were locked together in the kind of kiss that should have been private - deep, hungry, desperate. Her hands were in his hair, tugging hard enough that his head was ti
Sheila's POVThe Uber pulled up to our gate at nearly 1 AM. The driver whistled low at the sight of the estate beyond the iron bars."Nice place," he muttered.Zuki was already typing in the gate code on her phone app. The massive gates swung open silently, revealing the long driveway lined with pa
Sheila’s POVAfter the makeup test, I begged for a break. Zuki gave me exactly ten minutes.Then she clapped her hands. “Up. We are going to fix your walk.”“I thought we already fixed my walk,” I said from the couch.“That was basic spine survival,” she said. “Now we are adding attitude.”“I don't







