The bottle stops again, and of course it points to another girl. Of course she leans in without hesitation, her lips brushing against someone else’s, soft and careless. My chest tightens so violently I can barely breathe. I should be furious, but instead it’s something messier, rawer. Anger tangled with desire until I can’t tell them apart.

She looks at me as she pulls away, smug, daring. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. My blood boils. My body burns. I snap.

“Enough.”

My voice is sharper than I meant, but I don’t care. I grab her wrist before she can spin again, dragging her out of the circle. Gasps follow us, laughter too, but it all fades the moment we’re alone in the hallway. I shove her against the wall, my body pinning hers, my breath shaking.

“You think this is funny? Making me watch while you put your mouth on everyone but me?”

She tries to smirk, but her lips part, her chest rising fast against mine. That infuriating, intoxicating face — God, I want to ruin it. My hands press harder into her wrists, my body pressed flush against hers.

“I should hate you,” I breathe, voice low, trembling with rage and want. “But the more you do this, the more I want to…”

I stop myself, but my lips are already inches from hers, my pulse crashing. She looks at me, eyes wide, lips red from all those stolen kisses, and it hits me — I’m not just jealous. I’m turned on. Consumed.

“You drive me insane,” I whisper, pressing closer until there’s no space left between us. “And I think you know exactly how much I want you right now.”