Lara's pov -

The day dragged, every tick of the clock an echo of his voice.

“You meant it.”

I wanted to rip the words from my memory, but they stuck like gum to my soul—sweet, stupid, and impossible to ignore.

I told myself I was done. That we were done. That whatever that kiss was, it died the second I walked out of his room.

But when I turned the corner toward the quad and saw her, every lie I’d told myself shattered.

Savahna.

Leaning against his locker.

Her glossy pink lips curled into a smirk I instantly hated.

And Liam—fucking Liam—was right there. Close. Too close. Laughing.

Laughing.

My chest caved in. It was the first time I’d seen that smile today. And it wasn’t for me.

Of course it wasn’t.

One minute I’m in his bed. The next he’s smiling at the girl who once told me my breath smelled like cafeteria tuna.

He said I was his. He looked at me like I was gravity itself.

Now he's letting her touch his arm like she owns it?

I didn’t even realize I was storming over until I was already there, words cutting up my throat.

“You move on fast,” I spat, louder than intended.

They both froze.

Savahna blinked, surprised—maybe even amused.

Liam's expression changed instantly. Guarded. Tense.

“Lara…” he started, voice low.

“No, really. Don’t let me stop your little moment.” I folded my arms across my chest. “You looked cozy.”

Savahna scoffed. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Not talking to you,” I snapped, eyes burning holes into Liam.

He exhaled slowly, jaw clenching. “You said we were enemies. You made that crystal clear.”

“Yeah, and you said I was yours,” I shot back. “Or is that just something you say between girls?”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I laughed bitterly. “Get mad that my supposed enemy was making bedroom eyes at the girl who used to draw hearts around his name in her notebook?”

Savahna took a step back, but Liam stepped forward. Close. Too close.

His voice dropped to a growl. “You don’t get to be jealous and cold in the same breath, Lara.”

“You don’t get to kiss me like I matter and flirt with her like I don’t.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, biting each word. “You practically ran from me this morning.”

“Because I was scared!” I shouted. “Because I felt something I wasn’t supposed to feel with you!”

He stared at me. Hard. Breathing shallow, like he was holding something back. Something wild.

I turned to leave, but his hand caught my wrist—firm, possessive.

“You are mine,” he said, voice low and rough. “And I don’t care how much you try to run from that.”

I wrenched free, heart pounding so loud it hurt. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I’ve never said anything to you I didn’t mean.”

And with that, I left him standing there.

Still furious. Still mine. And still completely, maddeningly impossible.

Liam's pov -

I stood there, her scent still clinging to the air like a threat and a promise.

She was gone. Again.

And this time, I didn’t stop her.

My hand was still burning from where I grabbed her wrist. I hadn’t even realized how tightly I’d held on until she yanked herself free, fury flashing in those stupidly beautiful eyes.

“You don’t get to kiss me like I matter and flirt with her like I don’t.”

I wasn’t flirting. I wasn’t even listening to Savahna. I was trying to breathe through the chaos in my chest after Lara bolted from my bed like I’d ruined her.

But now?

Now I just wanted to punch a wall.

Or Bryden again. Maybe both.

“Damn, that was intense,” Savahna muttered behind me.

I turned slowly. “Walk away.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I didn’t care how harsh it sounded. I didn’t care if half the quad was staring now. I didn’t want anyone near me. Not when I was seconds away from unraveling.

Savahna rolled her eyes and walked off with a toss of her perfect hair, muttering something about me being “mentally unstable.” She wasn’t wrong.

I turned and kicked the nearest trash can so hard it toppled over, clattering like a warning bell through the quad.

No one said anything. No one dared.

Because everyone knew something had shifted.

I wasn’t the guy cracking jokes or shoving my friends in the hallway. I was the guy with a fuse lit at both ends, and Lara fucking Vaughn was the spark.

She was jealous.

That had to mean something.

But she was also scared—and angry—and I hated how much I loved it. How good it felt to know I could still rattle her.

You’re mine.

Damn right she is. I don’t care how much she pushes. How many lies she tells herself. How many times she says we’re enemies.

Because every time she runs, I want to chase.

Every time she yells, I want to slam her against a wall and kiss the hate off her lips.

And every time she feels something for me, I fucking know it.

She’ll come back.

She always does.

And this time, when she does, I won’t let her run again.