FORBIDDEN LESSON

SKYLAR POV

My phone buzzed against the pillow for the third time, and I already knew who it was before I even looked. Emma's face filled the screen, her bedroom lit up behind her with fairy lights, Kyle's voice yelling something in the background about his shirt not fitting right anymore.

"Skylar, pick up for real this time," Emma said the moment I answered, like she could feel me hesitating through the screen.

"I'm here," I said, propping myself up against my headboard. My textbooks were still spread out around me, highlighters uncapped, notes half finished for a class that hadn't even started yet. "What's up?"

"There's a party tonight. Big one. Everyone's going." Kyle's face shoved into frame next to Emma's, grinning like he already knew my answer and planned to argue with it anyway.

"I can't. Classes start tomorrow and I haven't even finished organizing my schedule."

"It's one night," Emma said, drawing the word out like it physically pained her to hear me say no. "You can study literally every single day after this. Please. We never see you anymore."

"I see you right now."

"On a screen," Kyle said. "Come find a hot guy tonight. You need it. When's the last time you even kissed someone? Freshman year of high school doesn't count."

I rolled my eyes, but something about the way he said it sat strange in my chest. He wasn't wrong. I hadn't so much as held a guy's hand since I was sixteen. Somewhere between grades and proving to myself I could do this without anyone's help, dating had just stopped being a priority.

Maybe that was the problem.

"Fine," I said, surprising even myself. "One hour. Then I'm gone."

Emma screamed so loud I had to pull the phone from my ear, and Kyle started listing outfit ideas before I'd even hung up.

Night came faster than I expected. By the time we were walking up to the club the party was happening in, the bass from inside already rattled the windows, and the front lawn was packed with people I barely recognized.

Kyle took one look at my skinny jeans and hoodie and made a face like I'd personally offended him. "You could have dressed up a little. You look like you're about to go study, not party."

"This is what comfortable looks like," I said.

"This is what single looks like," he shot back, and Emma laughed so hard she nearly tripped over the porch step.

Inside, the party swallowed us whole. Music, heat, too many bodies pressed into too small a space. Emma handed me a cup before disappearing into the crowd with Kyle, both of them already dancing before I could even take a sip.

I stood there for a second, feeling like I didn't belong in my own skin, let alone this room. So I did what I always did when I felt out of place. I found somewhere quiet to sit.

The bar was tucked into the corner of the kitchen, mostly empty since everyone else wanted to be where the music was loudest. I slid onto a stool and took a long drink, letting the noise blur into the background.

That was when I smelled him before I even saw him.

Something clean and expensive, cutting through the smell of spilled drinks and sweat. I turned my head, and my stomach dropped straight to my shoes.

He was gorgeous. Not cute, not attractive in the way boys my age were attractive. This was something else entirely. Dark eyes that looked straight through me, a jaw that could have been carved, and when he smiled, two dimples appeared that nearly made me forget my own name.

"You look lonely," he said, voice low enough that I felt it more than heard it.

"My friends are having fun," I managed, gesturing vaguely toward the dance floor. "I'm just not really into it."

He nodded like that answer satisfied him completely, then waved the bartender over and ordered me something I didn't catch the name of. When it arrived, I wrapped my fingers around the glass and thanked him, trying to ignore how aware I suddenly was of every inch of space between us.

He had a way of looking at me that made my skin feel too warm. Like he already knew exactly what I was thinking before I did.

"So why aren't you out there with your friends?" he asked, sliding onto the stool beside me.

"Not really my style," I said, forcing a smile.

He chuckled, a sound that rumbled low in his chest, and scooted closer until his knee brushed mine. I felt the warmth of his hand settle lightly against my thigh, and my breath caught somewhere in my throat.

"What's your style then?" he asked, leaning in close enough that I could feel his breath against my cheek.

I don't know what possessed me to say it, but the words left my mouth before I could stop them. "Whatever you're thinking."

Something shifted in his expression, dark and certain, and the next thing I knew his hand was wrapped around mine, pulling me off the stool and through the crowd toward the stairs.

We reached a room upstairs, quiet and dim compared to the chaos downstairs, and the second the door shut behind us he shrugged off his coat and crossed the space between us like he'd been waiting all night to do it.

His mouth found mine, and every rational thought I had evaporated. I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my toes despite how tall he was, and let myself get lost in it completely. He tasted like whiskey and something I couldn't name, and his hands felt steady against my waist like he knew exactly what he was doing.

He guided me back until my legs hit the edge of the bed, and I sank down with him following, settling between my knees without breaking the kiss. I could feel how much he wanted this, pressed against me, and a soft sound escaped me before I could stop it.

His hands moved slow but certain, trailing along my sides before cupping my chest gently, and his mouth left mine to trace a path down my jaw to my neck. Every brush of his lips sent heat racing straight through me.

I tangled my fingers in his hair as he kissed lower, leaving marks along my neck that I already knew I'd have to explain later. He tugged the hem of my hoodie up and over my head, tossing it somewhere behind him without ever looking away from me, and his mouth trailed down toward my collarbone like he had all the time in the world.

I felt his hand slide lower, slow and deliberate, and for a moment everything in me went quiet except for how good it felt. I didn't want it to stop.

Then his phone rang.

He froze above me, jaw tightening, and I watched something flicker across his face before he pulled back just enough to grab it from his coat pocket.

"What?" he said into the phone, voice sharp now, nothing like the low, warm tone he'd used with me all night. "Busy. This better be important."

I lay there, chest rising and falling, wondering if this was really happening. Wondering if he was actually about to leave.

"The fuck are you talking about?......He can't do that." he added.

He hung up and looked at me, and the apology in his eyes told me everything before he even said it.

"I have to go," he said, already reaching for his coat.

I sat up, pulling my hoodie back over my head, trying not to let the disappointment show on my face. He was out the door before I could even think of something to say.

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, chest still tight, wondering what exactly I was supposed to do with whatever had just happened between us. Then I got up and walked out, smoothing my hair as best I could.

There was something about him I couldn't shake. Something that made me want to find him again, even though I didn't even know his name.

I found Emma and Kyle by the front door, already looking for me. The second they noticed my lips, swollen and a little raw, their jaws dropped.

"You were kissing someone," Emma said, grabbing my arm. "Did he take you upstairs? Did you sleep with him?"

I sighed, pulling my hoodie sleeves over my hands. "He was so hot. But he had to leave in the middle of it."

Their faces fell in sync, disappointment written all over them, but honestly, I think I was more disappointed than either of them.

That was the first time a guy had ever made me feel like that. The first time I'd actually wanted to see someone again before I even knew his name.

When I got home, I ran a warm bath and sat there until the water turned cold, replaying the whole night in my head. Afterward, I caught my reflection in the mirror and saw the marks scattered across my neck and chest.

"So much for nothing," I mumbled to myself, pressing my fingers against one of the marks before pulling on an old shirt and heading to bed.

I had physics first thing in the morning, and the last thing I needed was to be late on my very first day.

The next morning, Emma, Kyle, and I walked onto campus together, and I couldn't stop talking about him. Every detail, every look, every word he'd said. They teased me the entire way, but I didn't care.

We found our classroom and stepped inside, and my entire world tilted sideways.

Standing at the front of the room, writing his name across the whiteboard in neat, confident handwriting, was him. The same man who'd had his hands all over me less than twelve hours ago.

Our eyes met across the room, and in that single second, we both understood exactly how messed up this was going to be.