Tatum shoved a bottle into the center of the circle, signaling the start of the game. As it spun, you couldn’t help but feel Billy’s eyes on you, his gaze never wavering, as though he was waiting for something—waiting for you. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered under his attention, but it was impossible. His stare lingered just a little longer than the others, and the thought of it made your heart beat faster.

The bottle gradually slowed, its movement deliberate as it came to a halt, pointing straight at Billy. A small gasp escaped your lips, and before you could even process it, Sidney raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin playing on her face. She nudged you gently. “Looks like it’s your turn,” she teased, and suddenly the room seemed smaller, the air charged with something new.

Billy stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your pulse quickened as he made his way toward the closet where the game would unfold. Laughter and lighthearted remarks filled the air as your friends pushed you gently toward him, but none of it seemed to matter. You could feel the weight of the moment, the growing tension between you two. Billy reached the door, pulling it open for you with a deliberate motion, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Seven minutes,” he said in a low, confident tone, the words hanging in the air between you. It was as if he already knew what was coming, as if this moment was inevitable.

You stepped into the closet, the door clicking shut behind you with an almost suffocating finality. The space was tight, too small for both of you, and the silence between you two was deafening. Neither of you spoke, but the weight of his gaze made the seconds stretch out, thick with anticipation. Billy leaned back against the wall, his eyes never leaving yours, the tension palpable.

The game had only just begun, but already, everything felt different.