Chapter 7

“What did I miss?!” Kate’s voice shattered the moment. Jacob pulled his hands away at once and lowered my blouse, while I silently cursed her timing.

“There was a fight, and Camila was collateral damage,” Jacob said in his usual serious tone.

Jacob shot Kate a deadly look, but Kate—being Kate—didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, Cami!” She dropped to her knees beside me, her face full of guilt. “There were way too many people in the bathroom; I didn’t think it would take that long. This is my fault—I shouldn’t have left you here alone. I’m so sorry.”

She brushed a strand of hair from my face and wiped away a tear with the ease of someone who had always been there for me. That was us—taking care of each other, balancing out whatever life threw our way. She gave me a soft smile, the kind that always made me feel like everything would be okay, even when I was falling apart inside.

“Who’s the idiot I need to kick in the shin?” Kate asked, trying to lighten the mood—and it worked; she made me smile.

“I honestly have no idea,” I replied, a little calmer now.

“We’re taking you to the hospital. Your ankle is bad, and you’ve got bruises on your back. I’ll call Sam on the way,” Jacob said, decisive.

I nodded weakly.

Steve stepped closer, his expression sincere.

“I’m really sorry, Cami. I hope you recover quickly. Jacob, let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” we both said at the same time. We looked at each other, surprised—and then blurted out:

“Jinx!”

Jacob said it first. He won.

“A Kit Kat,” he added.

Kate stared at us in disbelief.

“Okay, so… half the crowd falls on you, and you still have the energy to play Jinx? Oh, Cams, you’re something else.”

“Yes, she is,” Jacob murmured, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

With their help, I tried to stand, but it was obvious I couldn’t walk.

“Jacob, I lost my phone. I don’t know where it went…”

We looked around, but there was no sign of it. Someone had probably taken advantage of the chaos to grab it.

“I’ll get you another one later. Ready?”

«Ready for what?»

He met my gaze and, before I could say anything, lifted me into his arms in one smooth, steady motion. I straddled him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, my arms around his neck. My eyes went wide.

“Jacob! What are you doing?” I asked, my voice the most nervous it had ever been. Oh God—I hadn’t expected this. I didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or… something else.

“Walking to the car, Camila. Your back is injured, and you can’t put weight on your foot. I picked you up. End of story.” He said it with such calm logic, as if carrying me like this were the most natural thing in the world. Maybe he was right—but that didn’t stop my heart from racing. The position was far too intimate, and for a moment, I even forgot about the pain in my ankle.

When I looked at Kate, she was barely holding back laughter, wearing a mischievous expression that said, this is getting good. Nathalia, on the other hand, looked as if she were about to explode; I saw her step forward, ready to follow us, until one of her friends stopped her. I chose to look away—especially since I knew my cheeks were flushed and I didn’t want it to be so obvious to his friends.

The car was, unfortunately, not far away. I clung to Jacob’s neck, and when I rested my head against his shoulder, my lips accidentally brushed his skin. I felt him tense—but instead of pulling away, he held me tighter against him.

When we reached the car, Kate opened the door, and Jacob carefully settled me into the seat. He leaned over me a second longer than necessary, brushing my cheek with his fingertips before pulling back and closing the door. Kate got into her seat without a word.

As soon as he started the engine, he called Sam to let him know. He didn’t go into details—just explained that I’d hurt my ankle and that we’d meet at the hospital.

During the drive, I tried to look out the window, but in truth, I kept glancing at him from the corner of my eye. Each time a traffic light illuminated his profile, he seemed different. I couldn’t understand what had changed; I only knew that the night’s unexpected turn wasn’t limited to a fall or a twisted ankle.

Something else had shifted—and I wasn’t sure I wanted to name it.