Pucker Up

Lily's POV

I prayed Blackwood University would be my sanctuary.

But an hour later, I discovered my prayers went unanswered because this place was... chaotic.

The university quad was a sea of moving bodies, so packed that navigating the sidewalk felt like a contact sport.

Students streamed across the campus in every direction, weaving between booths, banners, and clusters of people gathered around the main lawn.

Music blasted somewhere in the distance while excited voices collided into one overwhelming wall of noise.

I had been at Blackwood for less than sixty minutes and already wanted a refund.

Back in Chicago, my first day would've involved finding classrooms, buying overpriced coffee, and pretending to understand campus maps.

Instead, I was trapped in whatever fresh nightmare New York had prepared for me.

Amidst the swirling crowd, a girl next to me tripped, sending a cascade of heavy textbooks across the pavement.

Reacting on instinct, I dropped to my knees to help her gather them.

A thick biology textbook skidded toward a bench while several notebooks exploded open, loose papers scattering everywhere.

"Thank you so much," she gasped, wiping a stray curl from her face as we stood up. "I'm Ava, by the way."

"Lily," I replied, handing over the last notebook before glancing around at the sheer madness surrounding us. "Is it always like this? It feels like a riot."

Ava rolled her eyes, compressing her lips into a thin line of pure exhaustion.

"The NY Titanfalls are doing some ridiculous pop-up autograph signing on the main lawn. It's a total circus."

Immediately an involuntary groan escaped me because ot course they were.

It seemed like my misfortunes were now permanently tied to Grayson Vance.

Geez, the universe truly had a sickening sense of humor.

Ava caught my expression and immediately pointed toward the crowd.

"Let me guess. You're not a hockey fan?" She asked, a brow raised.

"I don't even know the rules." I muttered the utter truth.

It seemed to please her and her eyes brightened.

"God, I envy you." She said in a drawl, and I blinked.

"You envy me?"

"Absolutely." Ava shifted her textbooks higher against her chest. "Half the girls on this campus have been losing their minds for weeks because the team is coming. Classes haven't even properly started and everyone's already acting possessed."

As if to confirm her words, a loud shriek erupted from somewhere ahead of us.

Ava pointed.

"See?"

I followed her finger.

Three girls were sprinting across the lawn as though a celebrity had descended from heaven.

One of them nearly ran into a trash can.

"That's concerning," I admitted.

"That's Blackwood."

Despite myself, I laughed.

The sound seemed to surprise Ava because she smiled.

She seemed nice, and when she jerked her head toward a pathway, and said—

"I get it. Trust me, I understand what you're feeling. Come on, we can take another route behind the science building to get away from the madness."

—I was ready.

"Lead the way." I beamed, immense gratitude flooded me.

Ava immediately started walking and I followed.

The noise faded with every step.

Towering brick buildings rose around us while trees cast patches of shade across the concrete path.

For the first time all morning, campus actually resembled a university instead of the site of a public emergency.

"This is better," I muttered.

"See? Not all of Blackwood is insane."

"I'll reserve judgment." I scoffed and Ava laughed.

We hadn't gone ten paces before a sliding sound cut through the air.

Something black shot out from the edge of the crowd.

A heavy rubber hockey puck spun across the pavement before bumping gently against the toe of my sneaker.

The object came to a stop. I frowned, bending down to pick it up.

It felt heavier than I expected. I was still examining it when I heard—

"Hey! Give that back!"

The screech was instantaneous and so loud. Quickly, I looked up, thinking it was a banshee.

But no. It was something far worse; a blonde.

She was in an expensive customized jersey and currently was marching toward us at alarming speed, her features twisted into a scowl.

Behind her, several other girls looked equally frantic.

Her tone was so fiercely rude, so downright annoying, that my fingers instinctively tightened around the puck.

"I said give it to me," she snapped, stopping a foot away and glaring at me as if I had personally robbed her family.

I stared at her, completely unimpressed.

"It rolled to my feet. You could try asking like a normal person."

The blonde's face somehow managed to sour further.

Beside me, Ava slowly took a step backward.

I found that decision... concerning. Why was she retreating? Was everyone associated with this sport completely unhinged? All this drama for a dumb piece of rubber?

Before the blonde could launch into another tirade, an iron-clad grip clamped onto my shoulder.

The contact was sudden enough to make me jump. With effortless strength, the hand turned me around.

The crowd seemed to part, a collective gasp rippling through the students nearby.

Then suddenly, I was staring at a very familiar, very smug chest.

Grayson.

My stomach immediately dropped.

He stood there in a black Titanfalls jersey, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of his lips as his gaze settled on the puck in my hand.

Of course it was him.

Because apparently the universe had decided my life would now revolve around Grayson Vance-related disasters.

Behind me, a collective, ear-piercing scream rose from the surrounding girls.

Several looked as though they were on the verge of actual tears.

One girl had both hands over her mouth.

Another looked ready to faint.

Completely bewildered by Grayson's expression and the sudden emotional collapse of the student body, I glanced around.

"What is happening?" I demanded. "Why are they screaming?"

"Oh my God, she doesn't even know!" a girl nearby wailed, clutching her friend's arm. "She actually doesn't know!"

Know what?

Why was everyone acting like I'd accidentally activated a bomb?

Then another girl practically bounced on her toes.

"Whosever gets that specific puck wins a free kiss from Grayson!"

With that, the world fucking stopped.

Dread—cold, heavy, and absolute—settled deep into my gut. Slowly, I turned back toward him and his grin widened.

"No." I whispered, shaking my head, panic surging through me.

I opened my mouth to drop it, to run, to fake my own death, to do literally anything that would remove me from this situation.

But I was too slow.

Grayson's hand slid from my shoulder to my jaw.

His fingers wrapped firmly around my chin, tilting my face upward.

Heat flared in his green eyes. Dangerous amusement danced there.

The bastard was enjoying this!

"Rules of the game, future sister," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly across my lower lip.

“Pucker up.”