Snow drifted down over Northvale High, layering the courtyard in soft white. Her breath fogged the air, cheeks pink from the cold. Her phone was already recording, propped up against a bench. The beat was about to drop.

It was just a trend. Someone runs in, spins you around, you both laugh — done.

Harmless.

Her best friend stood across from her, ready to run.

Except she never made it.

Because he got there first.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her clean off the ground. The world spun. Her heart skipped.

She knew those arms.

She’d spent years trying to pretend she didn’t.

Adrian Cross.

Top of the class. Captain of the basketball team. Star of the swim team. The school’s golden boy — fast, tall, sharp-jawed and sharper-tongued. The guy who somehow managed to be good at everything and never let anyone forget it.

Her enemy.

They’d been rivals since finger-painting. Every school year, every classroom, every team or contest — it was them, neck and neck. She swore she hated him. Swore it was mutual. Swore there wasn’t something electric between them every time they got too close.

But now, in front of a recording camera, she was literally in his arms, legs off the ground, snow caught in his dark hair, and those maddening eyes locked on hers like he already knew what she was thinking.

She opened her mouth to curse him out—

But he beat her to it.

He leaned in close, voice low, teasing, way too smooth.

“If you needed a real man to hold you like that, Sweetheart, all you had to do was say so.”

Sweetheart.

He set her down gently, like he wasn’t in any rush. Like he wanted her to stay there.

She glared, cheeks burning hotter than the snow was cold.

“Get lost, Cross.”

But he was already walking away, hands in his pockets, a smirk tugging at his lips.