The scent of sweat, rubber, and faint perfume lingered in the gym as you ran through the final cheer routine. The upcoming football game was a big deal, and as much as you despised him, you still had a job to do.

You turned around, crossing your arms as you took in his expression—uneasy, serious. Annoyingly, he still looked effortlessly good, even in just his practice gear. Norman. The star wide receiver. The same guy you’d spent years arguing with, rolling your eyes at, and exchanging sharp insults with.

And, unfortunately, the same guy you woke up next to last Saturday morning.

Your stomach tightened at the memory. The dim lights, the taste of alcohol on your tongue, the tension that had always existed between you two—except that night, it had ignited into something else. Something dangerous. Something that had led to that accident.

“Hey, we need to talk—” norman’s voice was low, urgent.

You turned, arms crossed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

His jaw clenched. “Are you serious? We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“It was a mistake,” you snapped. “We were drunk. It meant nothing.”