KAI’S POV

The lights were off.

Mr. Donnelly was playing that same Cold War documentary again.  the one with the crackling audio and washed-out footage that had probably been shown since he was in school himself. Most of the class was half-asleep, some scrolling on their phones, and I? well, I was watching Wren Sinclair squirm in her seat beside me

She thought she was being subtle. She wasn’t.

She’d been off all morning, ever since last night. Her eyes were restless, sweater sleeves pulled halfway over her hands like she was trying to hide from the world. Or maybe just from me.

I didn’t blame her.

The movie scene, our talk, the way she’d looked when she asked me what it was supposed to feel like. Like she was trying to unlock something in herself and trusted me with the key.

She had no idea what that did to me.

I shifted in my seat, adjusting my posture just to get a better look. Her legs were crossed tight, bouncing slightly. Her fingers kept twisting in her lap.

God, she was trying so hard to keep it together.

And that made me want to ruin her just a little more.

I tapped the tip of my pen against the desk and glanced toward her again. Her gaze was fixed on the screen, but I saw the flicker in her eyes. she could feel me looking.

Good.

I slid a note towards her desk

I’m bored. Wanna play?

It took a few seconds, but she responded. I smiled before I even read it.

Play what?

Typical birdie. Always the charmer.

I didn’t write back immediately. I wanted her to wait for it, wanted the anticipation to do half the work. Then, slowly, I wrote:

Let’s see if I can make you squirm without touching you.

She didn’t look at me.

But she blushed. Real hard.

I bit back a smirk.

My sneaker found her ankle. Just a light nudge. Then a slow, teasing drag up toward her calf. I didn’t push too far, just enough to remind her of everything we almost talked about last night. Everything she wanted.

"Kai" she whispered.

I leaned in slightly, careful to keep my voice low and right beside her ear. “You’re already wet, aren’t you?”

She jumped, pencil clattering to the floor.

“Everything alright back there, Sinclair?” Mr. Donnelly asked.

“Just dropped my pencil.” she covered quickly.

I ducked under the desk before she could and reached for it, letting my hand graze her inner thigh, featherlight, but obvious. Her little squirm told me everything.

I handed it back to her, holding her fingers for a second too Lomg.

Back in my seat, I scribbled another note.

You good Birdie : )?

She responded: I hate you.

I leaned close, my lips barely brushing her earlobe, and whispered, “No, you don’t.”

Because deep down, Wren Sinclair wanted to be touched.

And I was the only one she wanted to touch her.

Wren's POV

I sprinted immediately the class was over, stumbling between equally impatient students.

I ran into the safest place I could find. The library.

Going deeper into the back, I found myself slouched on a dusty bookshelf.

My legs still trembled from class. My thighs still clenched involuntarily every time I replayed Kai’s voice in my head. The way he whispered, the heat behind his gaze, the cocky smirk that made my stomach flip inside out.

I needed to breathe.

I couldn't believe that I needed distance from my best friend who all of a sudden made it impossible to think straight. all I could do was think about him. About his foot teasing mine under the desk. About how his fingers skimmed my thigh like he knew it’d haunt me for the rest of the day.

"I figured I’d find you here" came that familiar low murmur.

My head snapped up. My pulse doubling.

He leaned against the edge of the bookshelf like he owned it. That same smirk, but softer. More dangerous. Because it wasn’t playful. It was knowing.

"Running away from me, Birdie?"

"Running from... everything," I mumbled.

He stepped closer. Just one step, but it felt like he’d crossed oceans.

"You okay?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, then thought better of it.

"No. I’m not."

His face instantly switched to one of concern.

"Talk to me."

I stared at the book I'd randomly picked. At the words I wasn’t reading.

"I don’t know what’s happening to me," I said quietly. "I thought if I asked and got it off my chest, it’d go away. But it hasn’t. It’s worse now."

His brows furrowed. He didn’t interrupt.

"Every time you touch me, even when you just look at me, Kai my whole body responds. And I'm not sure it's just because I’m curious or ovulating or whatever. I want you,  I want you so badly it scares me. And I don’t think I can wait till my birthday if you keep being like this, teasing me and whispering things that make my knees go weak."

Silence.

Thick and crackling.

He stepped closer. The shelf behind me pressed into my back. His fingers touched my wrist, then slid up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"My Birdie," he said, voice low and steady. "You think I’ve been calm through all of this? I haven’t slept right in days. Your stupid wish has been on a loop in my brain like a damn porn intro. I can’t stop thinking about it."

I sucked in a sharp breath.

"You put those images in my head, Wren. And now they won’t leave. So yeah, I want you too. But I also want to be careful. I want to do this right."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"Then teach me," I said softly. "Just, teach me. Anything. maybe enough so I can stop feeling like I’m about to explode out of want."

His eyes darkened. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the back of my thigh, wrapping it around his hip.

I gasped, my back arching into the shelf. The pressure of him, the warmth. it was heady.

"This okay?" he asked, lips almost brushing mine.

"Yes," I whispered.

His hands slid to my butt, gripping just firm enough to make me moan softly. Then his mouth was on my neck, sucking, biting lightly, and I melted.

"God, Kai..."

"You like this?"

"Yes" I admitted, breathless. "I love the way you touch me. The way you make me feel. I love being the one you touch like this."

He groaned against my skin, his fingers digging slightly deeper.

"Then let me teach you everything, Birdie. Starting with how good you deserve to feel."

And in that quiet corner, between forgotten encyclopedias and unread poetry, I realized I didn’t want to run anymore. I wanted to learn. And I wanted him to be the one to show me.