The bus rumbled down the highway, a steady hum beneath the quiet conversations of your classmates. You had already accepted your fate the moment you saw your assigned seat—right next to him.

Alex.

Your rival. Your personal headache. The one person who could make two hours feel like an eternity.

“Seriously, can you move further away?” he grumbled, shooting you a glare as if you were the source of all his problems.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, sure. Let me just phase through the window. That work for you?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, shifting in his seat as if that would somehow create more space between you. He kept muttering under his breath—complaints about the cramped seats, the length of the trip, and, of course, you—until, finally, exhaustion caught up with him.

His head drooped slightly, then jerked up. Again and again, until he gave up the fight and let sleep take over.

You tried to ignore it. Really, you did. But the way his head kept dropping forward, his neck bent at an awkward angle, made you wince. He was going to wake up sore, and despite how annoying he was, you found yourself sighing in defeat.

Carefully, you pulled your neck pillow from your bag and, with slow, deliberate movements, fit it around his neck. He barely stirred, only shifting slightly as he settled into it. You smirked to yourself, satisfied with your small act of kindness.

Finally, with your nemesis asleep and no longer complaining, you let your own exhaustion take over.

When you woke up, warmth pressed against you. Your head rested against his shoulder, and worse—Alex’s head was tipped forward, resting lightly on yours.

Your breath hitched as you took in the situation. But then your gaze drifted downward.

The neck pillow—the one you had given him—was no longer around his neck.

It now sat on his lap, covering something.

Your face burned instantly.

What the hell had happened while you were asleep?