###Chapter4-You’ll Beg to kiss Me One Day

Lola’s POV

My hand was still pressed against Morgan’s chest.

I was lost in my own world, imagining Flint holding my face and telling me he’d always loved me. His words were soft in my mind, his touch gentle. 

It was a scene I’d made up a hundred times before. It was one I could never say out loud.

Then Morgan’s voice snapped me out of it.

“You were fantasizing about me, weren’t you?”

I blinked.

He wasn’t smirking at first. He was just staring, looking caught off guard.

That’s when I realized my hand was still on him.

I quickly pulled it back, flustered. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I said. “You wish.”

Now the smirk returned. “So… your sexual fantasy is about your adoptive brother?”

I took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He moved closer. His eyes didn’t leave mine.

I shoved him gently, just enough to break the tension, then turned and walked fast, headed for the hallway.

But I didn’t get far before I bumped into something solid.

It was Flint.

He looked down at me, then past me. His expression changed the moment he saw Morgan behind me. His jaw tightened, and that calm face turned cold.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to deal with either of them right now. So I stepped around him and hurried off to find Evelyn.

I spotted her near the dance floor, laughing and spinning in circles with a tall guy I didn’t recognize. 

Her heels clacked against the floor as she twirled, her hair flying around her shoulders. She looked like she was having fun and completely carefree.

I waited by the edge of the crowd, arms crossed. She noticed me after another spin, gave the guy a quick hug, then jogged over.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, brushing hair from her face.

“Can we go?” I said.

I left the party not long after, slipping out into the cooler night air. The noise faded behind me as I walked away from the bright lights and laughter. 

I took a deep breath, hoping the fresh air would clear my head. I didn’t want to think about Flint, or Morgan, or anything that had happened inside. 

When I got home, my mom was waiting for me in the living room. The lights were dim, but I could see the concern on her face.

“You’re back early,” she said. “Alone? I thought Flint went with you.”

I nodded. “He stayed behind. I didn’t feel like being there anymore, so I came back by myself.”

She stared at me for a moment. “Wasn’t that Morgan Morriso’s party?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t look happy. “Stay away from him. Boys like that only bring trouble.”

“I know,” I said. “I will.”

We went to the kitchen and made a small plate of toast and warm milk.

Just as I sat down, the front door opened.

Amy came in first, laughing. Flint walked in behind her, looking tired.

Amy stood on her toes and kissed him on the forehead.

Something about the way he let her made me feel off.

I quietly pushed my plate away and stood up.

“I’m tired,” I said. “I think I’ll head upstairs.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked out of the kitchen and climbed the stairs slowly.

I didn’t want to sit there any longer, watching them fit so easily together while I sat on the outside, pretending it didn’t matter.

It did. More than I could admit out loud. And for the first time, I wondered if he’d ever seen me at all. Not as a sister. Not as the quiet girl in the corner. But as someone who could be loved.

That answer felt clearer than ever now. And it hurt.

The next morning at school, I was unlocking my locker when I heard whispers behind me.

“Is that her?”

“She was with Morgan at the party, right?”

I turned slightly and caught a few girls staring.

Then I felt someone standing behind me.

I turned.

Morgan.

He leaned against the lockers with one hand and smiled like we were old friends. “Nice to see you again, baby.”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that.”

People around us slowed down, watching. Some were whispering already.

Morgan didn’t seem to care. “Why’d you disappear at the party without saying goodbye?”

“It wasn’t necessary.”

He blinked. “Ouch, that’s cold.”

I started to close my locker, but he blocked it.

“You know,” he said casually, “I couldn’t stop thinking about your writing.”

My heart skipped.

“What?”

“You really should pick a more discreet pen name.”

I froze.

No. No, no, no.

“How do you know that?” I asked, my voice low.

“Did a little digging,” he said, grinning. “You’re the author of A Virgin’s Guide to Breaking Virginity, right?”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“ My dirty stories with my adoptive elder brother. My secret pen name. This is a disaster,” I thought.

“Keep your voice down!” I hissed. “No one’s supposed to know that!”

“Relax,” he said. “I haven’t told anyone… yet.”

I glared at him. “What do you want?”

“Simple. Write a new story. This time, about us.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Use that same pen name. But this time, make me the male lead. I want to see how wild your imagination really is.”

I stared at him, speechless.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low. “You could call it Bad Boy in the Locker Room. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

I glared at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

He grinned. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m angry.”

His eyes moved slowly from my face down to my chest and back up. “You sure? Because last night, your hand stayed on me a little longer than it needed to.”

I stared at him for a second, admiring his toned arms, sharp jawline, and the way his shirt clung to his chest.

Yeah, he was sexy. I could admit that.

But I quickly looked away and thought, He’s sexy… but still a jerk.

I rolled my eyes and turned to leave, his hand gently grabbed my wrist.

His tone changed.

“I wouldn’t actually tell anyone,” he said quietly.

I looked back at him.

He was still smiling, Then it was gone again. “But I might need a kiss as compensation for the emotional damage.”

I yanked my hand back. “I’d rather die than kiss you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That is dramatic?”

“You’re a jerk.”

He smirked. “You’ll beg to kiss me one day.”

Before I could respond, I heard a loud voice.

“WHAT is going on here?!”

It was Amy.

She stormed toward us, eyes wide and angry.

“What are you doing with her, Morgan?!” she snapped.

I turned my head.

And I caught a glimpse of Flint walking towards me with a gloomy face.