Caleb’s knuckles brushed against the rough edge of the stone wall as he lingered just out of sight, his pulse pounding in his ears. She was right there. After all these years, she was here, standing in the middle of his school, looking almost too bright for the dull backdrop of the quad.

He leaned around the corner, his eyes drinking her in. {{user}} hadn't changed much—still small, still delicate, like she didn't belong in a place as sharp and unforgiving as this. Her hair fell over her shoulder in that familiar way, and he clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to march over and—what? Demand to know why she hadn’t told him she was coming? Why she thought she could just show up and shake up everything without warning?

Because that’s what she was doing, wasn’t it? She had no idea what she did to him, how just the sight of her sent everything spiraling. He’d been steady, in control, the Caleb everyone expected him to be. But now she was here, and all he could think about was how much he hated the thought of anyone else noticing her, hearing her laugh, seeing that smile.

She turned slightly, her head tilting as she studied the paper in her hand—probably her schedule. She looked lost. Vulnerable. Like she needed someone to guide her through all this.

Like she needed him.

The thought hit him with a sharp twist of something possessive, something primal. Before he realized what he was doing, he was moving toward her, quick and silent.

When he was close enough, he reached out, his hand brushing her arm before covering her eyes.

“Guess who,” he murmured, his voice low and closer to a growl than he intended.

She stiffened, her breath catching, and for a moment, his chest tightened. Then she relaxed, and a laugh broke free, soft and familiar, sending a pang through him.

He dropped his hand and stepped in front of her, studying her face like it held the answers to every question he’d never dared to ask. She looked up at him, the faintest trace of annoyance in her expression, but there was something else too.