Chapter 13 #2
I slide another sheet toward him. “Let’s see if you can keep the streak alive.”
Pencil scratches fill the quiet. Without the swagger, he looks younger, focused. I catch myself staring and look away.
“Question,” he murmurs. “Third problem—magnitude or vector?”
I lean in to see and instantly regret it. He doesn’t move back. Warmth rolls off him, clean soap and detergent, steady breathing.
“Vector,” I manage. “Magnitude comes later.”
He nods, like that’s how he saw it too.
“Right.” His gaze lifts from the worksheet to my face—close enough that I catch the flecks of gold in blue. “Thanks.”
I should lean back. I don’t. Every nerve is aware of the inches between us.
“Wren.”
“Yeah?”
“Your eyes don’t stay one color,” he says quietly. “They go dark when you’re thinking, and then, when the light hits them just right…” His mouth tilts up. “They turn green. Like you’re letting something dangerous slip.”
Heat floods my face, too fast, too sharp. My stomach drops, as if I missed a step I didn’t see. “That’s—you can’t just—”
“Can’t what?” he says lightly. “State facts?”
“That’s not tutoring.”
“No.” His voice lowers, softens. “It’s not.”
Something in my chest stutters, then slips out of rhythm entirely. For one suspended second, the room feels weightless. I’m aware of how close he is, of the air between us thinning, of the way I’ve forgotten how to breathe properly.
I think he’s going to kiss me—actually kiss me—and the realization hits so hard it makes me dizzy. I can’t tell if I want it, or if I’m terrified. Maybe both.
His gaze drops to my mouth. His breath changes—deeper, slower.
He hesitates. Long enough for me to notice. Then his fingers find mine, barely there.
A shiver ripples up my arm, uninvited. I don’t move, but my body does. Before I can stop myself, I lean in.
“Tell me if this crosses a line,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the inside of my wrist.
My thoughts scatter. Every word I had lined up evaporates. That single touch is a short circuit—pulse loud in my ears, skin suddenly too aware of itself.
Before I can argue with myself, before I can remember the rules, my hand turns on its own, letting his palm settle over mine. Our fingers lace together, natural and wrong and perfect all at once.
Pretend. It’s just pretend.
Except my eyes close anyway. My shoulders loosen. My skin drinks in the warmth of him like it’s been waiting.
Then his phone buzzes on the table, shattering the spell.
He stills. Blinks once. Runs a hand through his hair like he’s grounding himself…and lets go.
“Where were we?” he asks.
“Torque,” I manage, even though I’m pretty sure all the torque in the room is currently twisting my insides.
“Right. Torque.”
He silences the phone and bends over the work, but the space between us still hums.
I force myself back to the numbers, though they blur. This is about Theo, I remind myself. Steady, predictable Theo—not Kieran O’Connor, who feels like a free-fall.
“Done,” he says, handing me the paper.
“All correct. Again. So why did you need a tutor?”
“Maybe it had something to do with the five no’s you threw at me in the first five minutes.”
“All part of your master plan?”
“Obviously. Worked, didn’t it? You’re in my house, about to come to my game and wear my jersey.” He leans back, smug. “That’s a win.”
“You really are your own biggest fan.”
“Someone has to be.”
I shove another worksheet his way. “Focus before your ego implodes.”
“Wasted tutoring this is not,” he murmurs, pencil moving again.
The only sounds are graphite and, faintly, the house settling.
“Why’s it so quiet?”
“Game night. They’re napping.”
“And you?”
“I will. You could keep me company.”
I nearly drop my pen. “Keep dreaming, superstar. Done?”
He passes the sheet, fingers brushing mine—intentionally. My pulse accelerates.
“Looks right,” I manage.
“Of course.” His voice softens. “Hey, about tonight. You don’t need a ticket. Friends and family entrance at the side of the rink.” He pauses. “And I was serious about the jersey. Will you wear it? It’s good optics.”
“Oh. Sure. Whatever.”
He studies me for a beat, like he’s making a decision. Then his mouth curves.
“Good,” he says quietly. “I’ll bring it before warm-up. South end locker room, security’ll know you.”
“Because I’m your tutor?”
His smile goes slow. “Because you’re with me.”
My breath catches before the eye-roll lands. “You really can’t turn it off.”
“Not when I get to watch you pretend I don’t get to you.”
I snap my binder shut and grab my jacket. “See you at seven, babe.”
His laugh follows me—low, satisfied, impossible to shake.
Outside, the cold air hits my overheated face. I make it three blocks before I realize I just spent two hours at Kieran O’Connor’s house.
Two hours of sitting close enough to feel his breath.
Two hours of almost-kisses and casual touches and endearments that felt too real.
And I didn’t think about Theo once.
Not once.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, expecting Aubrey.
THEO
Hey, Sensei. Weird question—are you actually dating O’Connor? Saw the photos last night. Just want to make sure you’re good
My stomach flips.
This is what I wanted. Theo noticing me. Theo checking in. Theo finally seeing me as more than just the quiet girl who helps with homework.
So why does my chest feel tight? Why do I keep thinking about the way Kieran looked at me on that couch, like I was the only person in the world?
I stare at Theo’s message, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
WREN
I’m good. Yeah, surprising, right?
The lie comes easier than it should. Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
THEO
Just be careful, okay? O’Connor’s got a reputation
A sharp and cold wave washes over me.
WREN
I know what I’m doing
THEO
Okay. Just looking out for you. See you in class
I pocket my phone and keep walking, but Theo’s warning echoes in my head.
O’Connor’s got a reputation.
Of course he does. I knew that going in.
This was supposed to be about Theo noticing me, not about feeling like this.
Except somewhere between the library and his couch, between his lips on my cheek and the almost-kiss that still has my hands shaking, the line between fake and real started to blur.
And that’s a problem I don’t know how to solve.
My phone buzzes again.
KIERAN
Forgot to say—you looked good in my house. Like you belonged there
My pulse goes careening.
WREN
It’s just tutoring, O’Connor
KIERAN
Sure it is, Rules
See you at seven
I stare at the messages until my screen goes dark, then stand there in the cold, trying to remember why I wanted Theo in the first place. Trying to remember when steel blue and silver started to feel safer than sage green.
Trying to remember the last time I was this terrified of something I might actually want.