MasukMark 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
Bailey POVI lasted three days before I called him.Seventy-two hours of sitting in my apartment with the curtains drawn, scrolling through job listings that made my stomach turn. Lola called every few hours to check on me. My brother kept texting, but I wasn't ready to tell him I lost my job. The cardboard box sat in the corner of my living room untouched, and every time I looked at it, something inside me sank a little deeper.On the third night, I picked up my phone and dialed Mark's number.He answered on the first ring."I'm in," I said.No greeting. No small talk.A pause."Yeah?" he asked."Yeah. But we need to talk first. In person.""Name the place.""Lincoln Park. Tomorrow morning. Six o'clock.""I'll be there."I hung up before I could change my mind.The next morning, I got to the park at five forty-five. The sun was barely up, the sky still gray and pink around the edges. The air was cool, damp with dew, the kind of morning that reminded me of early training days back whe
Bailey POVMark stood outside my window, his face tight with something between concern and anger.I wiped my eyes quickly with the back of my hand, but it was too late. He had already seen.He tapped the glass again."Open the door, Bailey."I shook my head."Just go, Mark.""Open the door."His voice was firm. No room for argument.I turned off the engine and unlocked the door. He opened it and stood at the door of the driver's seat, his eyes scanning my face, taking in the red eyes, the swollen lids, the tear streaks I hadn't managed to hide."What happened?" he asked."How did you know I was here?""Word travels fast in that building. I heard ten minutes ago and came straight here."I couldn't look at him."I got fired."The words came out flat. Empty. Like all the emotion had already been wrung out of me in the last hour."Fired?" His brow creased. "For what?"I reached into the back seat and grabbed the letter. Handed it to him without a word.He read it standing up. His eyes mov
Bailey POVTwo weeks later, it happened.I walked into the USTAF Academy on a Monday morning with a coffee in one hand and my training bag over my shoulder. The sun was out. The air was crisp. I had spent the weekend putting together a new sprint program for my group, and for the first time in a while, I felt something close to normal.Then I saw the envelope on my desk.White. Sealed. My full name typed across the front in bold letters.No stamp. No return address. Hand delivered.I set my coffee down and picked it up. Something about the weight of it made my fingers go stiff.I tore it open.The first line hit me like a fist.~Dear Ms. Bailey Adams, we regret to inform you that your position as Assistant Coach and Sports Trainer at the USTAF Academy has been terminated, effective immediately.~My eyes read the words three times before my brain caught up.Terminated.Effective immediately.I kept reading.~Following a review of staff performance and professional conduct, the decisio
Bailey POVA week passed.Seven days of showing up early, coaching my groups, and going home to an empty apartment. Seven days of avoiding Mark's side of the track, eating lunch alone in the staff room, and pretending the hollow feeling in my chest was nothing.The whispers had died down. Or at least, I stopped hearing them. People moved on to other gossip, other drama, other things to talk about behind closed hands.But the damage was already sitting in places I couldn't see.It showed up in small ways first. I forgot to log my weekly training report on time. Mixed up two athletes' sprint times on my clipboard. Zoned out during a staff meeting and had to ask the person next to me what was said.Tiny slips.The kind most people wouldn't notice.But Coach Mercer wasn't most people.He found me after practice on a Thursday afternoon. I was stacking cones by the equipment shed when his shadow fell across the grass in front of me."Bailey."I straightened up and turned around.He stood wi
Monalisa POV.Oh my God, I now have a boyfriend.Just like that.I didn't think he would agree to date me this easily, but he did.And he was the first boyfriend I ever had.Tommy had been a crush and Ethan had been a prospect.But Greg? He was officially mine.Well, for two months.It was more of
Monalisa POV.The question hung heavy in the air, between us, and his eyes bored into mine;Searching....Waiting....He was giving me another opportunity to back out, to give up and run away.I should stop here.If I had any self-preservation, I should tell him I wouldn't bend over and do as he pl
Monalisa POV. I couldn't believe my eyes. What did I just read? I knew I said rules don't scare me, but I was expecting a regular guideline, not an iron cage to lock me up in. I read the document again for the second time, to be sure I wasn't imagining things. "What the heck does he mean by I'm
Monalisa POV. I took in a deep breath and jerked the front door open. Seeing Ethan standing here, with a painful look on his face made me want to puke. "Mona, what's been going on?" He asked immediately, "I've been trying to reach you for days now." "Why have you been trying to reach me?" I







