Now in the car with the Arabian prince.

I had my eyes glued to my phone like my life depended on it. Not scrolling, not typing, just… staring. Pretending. Anything to keep me from turning and drinking him in. My brain was on overdrive—panic attack tangled with heat, like I was one command away from climbing into his lap and begging.

The dirty things I wanted him to do to me in that leather seat…

Tell me to peel my jeans down mid-drive, spread my legs for him. Let him finger me raw while keeping his eyes on the road like nothing sinful was happening.

God, I was pathetic.

Get. A. Grip.

But his scent was wrapped around me like a noose—expensive cologne laced with warm musk. It made thinking straight impossible. My chest tightened, my core throbbed, and every inch of me screamed just look at him. Don’t just stare at your phone.

And then, he spoke.

“If you keep staring at your screen like that, it might crack under such a gaze.”

Smooth. Amused. Like he’d been watching me unravel for fun. His voice curled in my ear like velvet rope, pulling tighter with every word.

I looked up at him, plastered on the fakest laugh in existence.

“Hahaha… very funny.”

And immediately turned to glue my eyes on the window instead.

Coward.

My house was barely three miles from Alora’s, but each second felt like an eternity of sitting in heat next to a man who was everything I shouldn’t crave. My thighs itched against the leather, every nerve screaming his name. My fingers twitched, wanting to touch him, to see if he was real.

And then across the road—I saw it.

Him.

Kevin.

The word shot through me like lightning and before I could stop myself, it ripped out of my throat:

“Stop the fucking car!”

The brake slammed me forward, smacking the dashboard. I didn’t care. I was already out, leaving Rayan calling my name behind me.

My strides ate the pavement, reckless, strong. I didn’t look at traffic. Horns blared. Tires screeched. I didn’t care. My blood was boiling too fast.

Because there he was. Kevin. Sitting pretty in Mrs. Hawthorne’s café with her.

Falcon Falls High School’s plastic Barbie princess herself. Cassie.

And just as I walked in, he leaned in—his lips aiming for hers.

Something snapped inside me.

“Wow,” I said, loud enough to turn heads. “Isn’t this sweet.”

Every pair of eyes in the café swiveled to me. Chairs squeaked. Coffee spoons froze midair. Phones tilted up with that little red recording dot glowing. Kevin’s lips hovered inches from Cassie’s. Cassie froze like a doll someone had forgotten to wind.

And me? I couldn’t stop. I was already burning alive and every word was gasoline.

“Do you know,” I sneered at Cassie, “he and I are supposed to be on a date in the next forty-five minutes? And after that, we were supposed to get a room at Longview Hotel for a little sexcapade night?”

Gasps. A sharp intake of breath rippled across the café. Someone whispered “holy shit.” Phones went higher, angles shifting for the best shot.

Cassie’s glossy pink mouth dropped open, her fake lashes trembling like she couldn’t decide if she should faint or fight. She clutched her glittery handbag like a shield. Kevin’s face went pale, then blotchy red, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard as he tried to swallow down the scene.

“Stop—” he started, voice strangled.

But I was on fire.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Cassie. You should know what you’re dealing with. He’s got a tiny dick—”

“Yara!” Kevin barked, his voice sharp enough to cut glass, but I was too far gone.

“—two minutes in and he’s already gasping for a break. Said I was too much to handle. Isn’t that right, Kev?”

Laughter broke like thunder. Someone snorted so loud it echoed. Others tried—and failed—to smother giggles behind coffee cups. Cassie recoiled like she’d just licked bleach, her lip gloss smeared from biting down on her fake pout.

The humiliation should’ve drowned me, but I just kept going. Loud. Raw. Ugly. My chest burned with every glance, every whisper, every half-laugh around me. I could feel my wetness pooling, my thighs pressing together, and I hated that he had that kind of control over me without even trying.

“Two minutes, Cassie. That’s all you’ll get. Hope you don’t mind disappointment wrapped in varsity charm.”

Kevin stood, his chair scraping like a gunshot. His nostrils flared, fists curling at his sides. He looked one second away from grabbing me and shaking me in front of everyone.

“It’s over,” he spat, his voice cracking but vicious. “You’re insane. You’re too much. Too dramatic. Done.”

His words stabbed, but the way he looked at me—cold, final, like I was trash to be taken out—hurt worse.

And then silence. The kind that eats you alive. Every eye pinned on me. Every phone still recording. My shame buzzed in my ears like static, louder than the hiss of the espresso machine. I felt my stomach twist, the heat in my core almost unbearable, knowing I was dripping just from standing here.

I turned. My eyes blurred as I shoved through the crowd, shoulders brushing strangers, whispers clinging to me like cobwebs—

“She really said that?”

“Two minutes? Damn.”

I could feel my chest heaving, my pulse pounding in my ears, my thighs still tingling, soaked with want I didn’t want to admit.

And then I smacked into a hard body outside.

Rayan.

My chest collided with his, his scent hitting me like fire. His hands clamped my arms, steadying me with a grip that felt unshakable. His eyes—dark, unreadable, burning—scanned my face, my trembling lips. He opened his mouth, lips parting like he wanted to slice through the chaos with something calm, grounding.

But I cut him off before I could shatter in front of him.

“Just take me home, please, Rayan.”

And I walked past him, my voice cracking, not daring to look back.