جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 60

Mason’s eyes stayed on my face.The professor’s voice kept going at the front of the room, calm and steady. “Cognitive dissonance happens when a person holds two conflicting thoughts at the same time. The mind tries to reduce the discomfort. Sometimes it fails. Sometimes the body shows the strain first.”I felt the heat still sitting in my cheeks. I knew Mason could see it. His gaze did not move away.Under the long wooden desk Leo’s hand stayed locked on my inner thigh. His thumb pressed a firm, slow pulse against the denim, over and over, like he was counting something only he could hear. The pressure never eased.I forced a smooth smile toward Mason. The kind I practiced in the mirror when I needed to look fine even when I was not.“I’m good,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Just warm in here.”Mason’s brow lifted a little. “You sure? Your face is still red.”Leo’s thumb pressed harder for one second, then went back to the slow pulse. I reached under the desk with my free hand, car

"Let go of my bag, Leo," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could while my back stayed pressed against his chest.The lecture hall was completely empty now. The last few students had walked out through the double doors, leaving only the two of us standing on the wooden stairs in the middle of the room.Leo didn't let go. His hand stayed clamped around the canvas strap of my tote bag, keeping me pinned right where I was."You're not going with Mason," Leo said softly near my ear.His voice didn't sound angry or loud. It was low, quiet, and completely firm."Mason is just my friend, Leo," I replied, turning around slowly to face him. I took a small step back, forcing his hand to slip off my bag strap, though he still stood directly in front of me, blocking the path down the steps. "He was just being nice. He saw how stressed I looked during class and offered to help.""He was looking at you the entire hour," Leo said, his dark eyes fixed entirely on my face. "He isn't just being ni

POV: Mason Reed"Mason, you still in here?" Coach Max asked, holding a stack of clipboards as he pushed open the glass door of the student-athlete lounge at the Oakwood Fieldhouse. "It's almost eight o'clock. Staff is closing up the main gym in fifteen minutes.""I'm almost done, Coach," I replied, leaning back in my desk chair and rubbing my eyes. "I'm just logging into the athletic portal to reserve my track lane for tomorrow morning's six a.m. practice.""Good," Coach Max said, stepping inside and dropping his clipboard stack onto the desk near the door. "Make sure you book lane three. The maintenance crew is fixing the turf line on lanes one and two early tomorrow.""Got it," I said, typing my student-athlete ID into the university facility system. "I'll set it for lane three right now.""How are classes going?" Coach Max asked, resting his hands on his hips as he looked down at my computer screen. "You looked distracted during morning drills today.""I'm doing fine," I said softl

pov: ivy adamsI rushed through the glass doors of the student union building, my breathing shallow and fast. My knees felt weak, but I forced my feet to keep moving across the polished wooden floor toward the quiet study corner in the back.Jax was sitting at a corner table, his black backpack resting on the floor and two portable computer monitors set up next to his coffee cup."Jax," I whispered, sliding into the booth seat across from him.He looked up from his keyboard, his eyes widening when he saw my face. "Ivy? What's wrong? You look pale.""I need your help right now," I said, my voice trembling. I looked over my shoulder to check the lounge. Across the wide room, Liya was standing at the bakery counter, picking out pastries and laughing with a few girls from her student club."What happened?" Jax asked, pulling his glasses down his nose."Take this," I whispered, reaching under the wooden table to press my phone directly into his hand. "Mason showed me something on the athle

pov: leo wilsonThe wide gym clock on the wall read exactly six in the morning. The entire campus building was dead quiet, except for the dull hum of the air system overhead and the distant rhythm of iron weight plates clicking against each other in the far corner.I pushed through the thick glass entrance door and walked into the weight room. I didn't come in workout clothes or carrying a gym bag. I kept my long dark coat on, my hands buried deep in my pockets, taking slow, steady steps across the gray rubber floor mats straight toward the power racks at the back near the large mirror wall.Mason Reed was the only person in the room. He was lying flat on the bench press, pushing a heavy barbell off his chest. His arms locked out at the top, holding the weight for a second before lower bars caught the steel hooks with a sharp, loud clink.He didn't scramble to get up, but he knew I was there. He sat up on the edge of the bench, grab a white cotton towel from the side rail, and wiped t