Lyra“Or else what?” I challenged, tilting my head just enough for my hair to fall over my shoulder. My smirk lingered, sharp and deliberate. “Kiss me?”I locked my gaze on him, not blinking, letting my eyes burn into his like I could peel away every layer he tried to hide behind. I wanted him to feel cornered, wanted him to feel heat in the air between us. And for a second, I saw it, his guard slipping.But just as quickly, he released me and leaned back like I’d burned him. “I can’t do this. Get out! You and your little friend.” His tone was cold, flat. “My bad for being nice.”The whiplash was real, one moment intense, the next, ice-cold. The speed of his switch made my stomach knot, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.“Okay,” I said, my lips curling in a slow smirk. Because truthfully, I’d already won. He lied about not liking me, and now I had proof. I didn’t want him back, but oh, I wanted him to suffer.I reached for the door handle, but his voice came
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