LOGINThe morning sun burned through my curtains like it had a personal grudge against my sleep. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow, but my body was already awake, humming with a weird energy I couldn't shake off.
However, last night felt out of this world.
The club, the music and importantly him.
I could still feel it, the ghost of his touch on my waist and the way his lips felt against mine. Like he knew exactly what he was doing while I was fumbling through every second of it.
I turned onto my back, staring at the ceiling. My heart was doing this annoying thing where it sped up just thinking about it and I hated that
"That wasn't like me," I muttered to the empty room.
And it wasn't. I didn't just kiss random guys at clubs. I let a stranger pull me close like they'd known me for years.
I sat up, rubbing my face. I wasn't fully ashamed. That was the weird part. Like I'd opened a door I didn't know existed and now I couldn't close it.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping me back from my thoughts. It was from Jennifer.
“Breakfast in 20. Get your ass up”
I typed back quickly.
Me: Give me 30
Jennifer: 10 or we're leaving with or without you*
I rolled my eyes but dragged myself out of bed anyway.
Twenty minutes later, because Jennifer could wait, I walked into the kitchen to find her already dressed, looking way too energetic for someone who'd been just as wild as me last night.
"Look who finally decided to join the living," she teased, scrolling through her phone.
"I hate you," I mumbled, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"You love me." She looked up with a grin. "Especially since I got you to actually have fun for once."
I ignored her, chugging half the bottle.
"So," she started, that mischievous tone creeping into her voice. "Are we going to talk about last night?"
I didn’t respond, rather ignored her.
"Because I saw—"
"Jennifer, no."
"—you kissing that guy, and honestly? I'm proud of you."
I choked on my water. "Oh my God."
"What? It was hot. You were hot. He was definitely into it." She stood up, walking over to me with that annoying smirk still plastered on her face. "You finally loosened up. It's about time."
"I'm not talking about this."
"You will when Kyle gets here," she sang, already heading toward the door. "Let's go. He's outside."
I groaned but followed her anyway.
Kyle was already in the car when we got there, engine running. He turned when we climbed in, a matching grin on his face.
"Well, well, well," Kyle started immediately. "If it isn't the girl who made out with a stranger last night."
"Oh my God," I muttered, sinking into my seat.
"Jennifer told me everything," he added. "Honestly, Lav, I didn't think you had it in you."
"Can we not do this?" I pleaded.
"Absolutely not," Kyle said, pulling out of the parking lot. "This is the most interesting thing you've done all year. We're definitely talking about it. I mean kissing a guy you just met. At a club. That's very interesting for you." He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his tone slightly mocking. "Especially considering your whole 'I don't do relationships' thing."
I crossed my arms. "It was just a kiss. It didn't mean anything."
"Sure," Jennifer said, not believing me for a second. "That's why you're blushing right now."
"I'm not blushing."
"You totally are," she chimed in, laughing.
"Look," Kyle continued, clearly enjoying this too much. "I'm just saying, it's about time you explored a little. Maybe this is good for you."
"Thanks for the analysis, Kyle," I said dryly.
"I'm serious. You spend all your time studying. When do you actually live?"
His words hung in the air longer than they should have. Because as much as I hated admitting it, he had a point.
When did I actually live?
I thought about last night again.
As Kyle went to get our orders, Jen stayed scrolling through her I*******m.
"You don't find that weird?" Jennifer asked.
"I find it romantic," I just answered for the sake of answering. She'd rolled her eyes so hard I thought she'd strain something.
I was elbow-deep in readings for tomorrow's lecture, highlighter capped between my teeth, when she continued.
"Lav." Her voice had a pitch.
"What?"
"Lav, look at this."
She thrust her phone at me, screen still glowing, thumb frozen mid-scroll. I took it more out of reflex than curiosity and looked down.
The image swallowed me whole.
A man stood at the center of a crowd, helmet raised over his head like a trophy, sweat and disbelief written across his face. Confetti hung suspended mid-fall around him, caught by whoever had taken the shot. Behind him, was a banner read something in bold letters I couldn't process fast enough, and under the photo, thousands of comments scrolled by too quickly to read.
P1. He did it—absolutely dominant weekend.
I stared at his jaw, then his eyes. Even the way he held his head, that slight tilt, like he was laughing at some private joke no one else was in on.
“That’s not—” I started.
"It looks exactly like him." Jennifer's voice had gone flat.
"It's not him," I said.
"Lav."
"It's a coincidence."
"Lavinia."
"What?"
I was quiet, trying to convince her. She gave me a look that could've stripped paint. "This man just won first place in front of, what, forty thousand people, and you think it's a coincidence that he has your boyfriend's exact face?"
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Whatever he is."
I zoomed in, even though some stupid part of me still needed to be wrong. I needed him to be a stranger who just happened to have the same face. But the longer I stared, the worse the feeling in my chest became. Then I saw the scar above his eyebrow. I knew that scar. I’d traced it once with my thumb in the dark at the club and asked him how he got it. It was right there in the photo, small enough to miss if you didn’t know it was there. But I knew exactly where to look.
"Okay." I handed the phone back as it had burned me. "Even if, and I’m not saying it is him, even if it was, why do I need to care?"
Jennifer shrugged. "This could be great news for you, girl. You can literally become Kylie Jenner overnight."
"That’s insane. We met only once. He even has forgotten what I look like."
"Or maybe," she said, "he likes that you like him for him. Not for..." She waved at the screen, "...that."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I wanted to say something clever, but my mind had gone completely blank.
My phone buzzed on the coffee, and we both fell silent. I picked it up already knowing who it was before I even looked.
Root: free tonight? Want to see you.
I stared at the message until the words blurred into meaningless shapes. Jennifer leaned over my shoulder, reading it upside down, and I could already hear the grin in her voice.
"Well," she said. "Guess you're about to find out."
I don’t remember the elevator ride down. I know I must’ve taken it, because one second I was standing outside a door that had just closed in my face, and the next I was out on the pavement, cold air biting at skin I hadn’t even realized had gone numb.Let's pretend this never happened.Let's never contact each other again.I kept repeating the words in my head, over and over, hoping that eventually they’d make sense. They never did.Not while I stood on the street trying to flag down a cab. Not on the ride home, my forehead pressed against the cool glass as the city blurred past in the same amber streaks I remembered from the night he’d taken me for a ride and told me that nothing hurt when he was with me.I climbed the stairs to my building, let myself inside, and found Jennifer already sitting up with her phone in her hand, waiting for me."How'd it..." She took one look at my face and put the phone down. "What happened?""He kicked me out.""He what?""Some article came up on his p
"Block him," Jennifer said for what had to be the fourth time in twenty minutes. She practically slammed her phone face-down on the plush duvet between us, treating the glass screen like a piece of biological hazard. "Or at least don't answer if he texts. Let him sweat a little, Lav! You’re giving away all your power."I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching my mug of lukewarm tea. "He didn't do anything wrong, technically.""He's a professional race car driver!" Jennifer dragged both hands down her face, her manicured nails digging into her cheeks. "That is not a small detail to leave out over morning coffee! He’s Rowan freaking Archer, Lavinia. The golden boy of Formula Racing! I'm not saying block him forever. I'm saying make him work for it. You don't just roll over the second a billionaire athlete says something sweet.""I'm not rolling over.""You're thinking about rolling over. I can see the exact moment your dignity leaves your body." She narrowed her eyes at me, leaning in close en
He dropped me a block from campus, as close as I’d let him get without making a scene. Even then, people noticed. The bike caught everyone’s attention as soon as we pulled up. A few guys looked over his shoulder, but it was the girls by the steps who really stared, phones lowering as they watched us like it was some kind of show."They're staring," I said, echoing his own line back at him as I swung my leg off the bike."So?" He caught my wrist before I could fully step back, tugging me down for a kiss that felt entirely too casual for an audience of thirty undergrads. "Do you hate attention?""Kinda," I said, trying to focus solely on him. "You're going to get me talked about.""You're already going to get talked about." He said it lightly, like it was a joke, but something in his expression made me pause. "Text me when you're out."I watched him pull away before turning toward the steps. The second I did, I felt it. Dozens of eyes glanced at me, then quickly looked away whenever I c
The first thing I noticed was the music.It was coming from somewhere nearby, soft enough that I almost slipped back to sleep. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out where I was.Then the smell of coffee reached me.And suddenly, I remembered.I kept my eyes at half-mast, pretending the fog of sleep hadn't cleared yet, and watched him from across the room instead. Root stood at the stove in grey sweatpants and nothing else, back to me, hips moving in some small unconscious rhythm to whatever was playing. The kitchen light caught a tattoo on his shoulder I hadn't noticed last night, dark ink curling over his muscle, something I couldn't make out the shape of from this distance and fully intended to ask about later. He flipped what looked like an egg in a pan with a competence that felt almost unfair for a man who supposedly lived off takeout, humming under his breath, off-key but still cute.He turned with two plates and caught me mid-fake-sleep, eyes sh
The elevator needed a key, not a button. He pulled out a slim brass fob and slipped it into a slot beneath the panel like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.The doors closed, sealing us inside a box of mirrored steel. Somehow, the whole elevator felt strangely weightless. There was no music, not even the usual mechanical hum. Just the faint pressure building in my ears as we climbed.Through the narrow strip of glass in the wall, I watched the city fall away beneath us. Tiny lights scattered across the darkness, whole rows of other people’s windows shrinking with every floor. His hand found the small of my back, warm through the thin fabric of my top, a single point of heat against the elevator's manufactured cold."You live here alone?" I asked."Mostly." He didn't elaborate, and the doors opened onto a hallway with exactly one door at the end of it, dark wood against pale concrete, like the entire floor belonged to him and no one else had ever needed to know it existed.In
Chapter ThreeThe park was empty by the time we got there, sodium lights throwing pools of amber across cracked asphalt, moths circling like they hadn't gotten the memo that it was nearly midnight."You brought me to a playground." I crossed my arms against the chill, not quite managing to fight my smile. "At eleven p.m.""Best swings in the city." He was already walking toward them, hands in his pockets, like he'd never once in his life been late for anything. "Trust me."I sat down, the cold chains biting through my jeans. He took the swing beside me, though it was clearly too small for him. His knees were almost pressed to his chest until he stretched his legs out, giving himself room, and let the swing slowly carry him back."This is childish," I said."But you're smiling, though." He chuckled, turning to look at me."I'm just cold.""You're smiling and cold." He nudged my swing with his foot, sending me into a lazy arc. "Multitasking. Impressive."We swung in silence for a while,







