Your class was going on a trip to Paris, all packed into a bus for what promised to be six long hours. You shook your head firmly.

“There’s no way I’m sitting next to him,” you muttered under your breath.

Kayden — your enemy, your constant rival — was standing right in front of you, smirking as usual.

He turned to the teacher. “I can’t be in her onion-breath all night.”

“Too bad,” the teacher snapped. “Either you sit next to each other, or you get off this bus.”

Kayden rolled his eyes at you.

“Ladies first,” he drawled. You stomped past him, climbing into your seat with a triumphant glare.

Hours passed. You drifted in and out of sleep, the hum of the bus and the soft chatter of classmates lulling you into a drowsy haze.

A soft murmur woke you. You blinked, disoriented, and looked outside. Darkness stretched beyond the windows. A rich, indulgent scent filled the air.

Confused, you realized your head was resting on Kayden’s lap. His hands were gently stroking your hair, and the sensation was so calming that you didn’t move. You closed your eyes again, letting yourself sink into the warmth.

“She wants you, bro,” you heard one of his friends tease.

“She does not,” your best friend shot back.

“I don’t care if she does,” Kayden said softly, right above your head. “I’ll love her enough for the both of us.”