Page 61 of Campus Heat

“You don’t have to carry it alone,” I whispered.

His gaze dropped to my mouth. The shift was subtle but unmistakable. It charged the air so much that my pulse skipped. He moved his hands toward me ever so slowly and carefully until his fingers wrapped around my waist. He wasn’t pushing or pulling. He was just holding me as if he were begging for more without asking, so I got back up. He automatically rose with me, and suddenly there were only inches separating us.

The lockers behind me were cold and hard as my back pressed into them. His chest nearly touched mine, and the heat between us felt alive.

“You scare me sometimes,” he breathed.

“Why?” I asked cautiously.

“Because when you look at me like that…” His grip on my hips tightened. “I want to believe you.”

My breath caught in my throat. “And what’s wrong with that?”

He swallowed hard, and his eyes darkened dangerously. They were no longer just bruised. They were burning.

“Nothing,” he said quietly.

Then, without warning, he kissed me. Nothing like the careful tenderness from before. It was filled with need, the kind that had been building under frustration, fear, and adrenaline that had been rising the entire day. I could feel it all the way down to my fingertips.

“You need to learn to trust your team,” I breathed through the kisses. “They’re your family. You need them.”

“I don’t want to talk about them right now.”

“We should.”

“I prefer this a whole lot more.”

My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. He pressed his entire body against mine, solid, warm and real, like he never walked out on me the other night. The lockers rattled behind me with the pressure he used, making the quiet room echo. Then he broke the kiss, but just long enough for us to catch a breath.

“We’re doing this? Here?” he said roughly.

I nodded, and his mouth quickly found mine again, but this time it was deeper, hungrier. The tension between us wasn’t just about desire. It was everything he had confessed, everything I had seen in him: the fear, the doubt, and the weight of expectation.

“I’m afraid,” he mumbled. “Malik said I’m trying to do everything myself and I’m dragging the team down. What if he’s right?”

He held me as if I were the only place on the planet where he didn’t have to pretend.

“You’re worried that you’ll let go and they’ll fail because you don’t know who would be to blame then. It’s easier to blame yourself and punish yourself than to do it to them.”

He nodded sadly.

“That’s part of the journey. You’ll win and you’ll lose, but you’ll never make something of yourself if you don’t learn to share the responsibility.”

He kissed me deeply, like he had just lost the last of his air and I was the only source. His hands moved along my back, sliding up slowly, fingers groping like he couldn’t get close enough. My pulse raced wildly, wanting more but also afraid of what it would get.

I tilted my head slightly, and his mouth trailed along my jaw, down the curve of my neck. His breath was searing hot, so hot that it sent a sharp, electric shiver down my spine.

“Elizabeth.”

I smiled against his lips and moved my hands further up his body. My fingers slid into his hair, and the soft sound he made in return nearly unraveled me. The world narrowed to the space between us. To the way his heart pounded against my chest and his hands tightened as if there was no other option.

And somewhere between the lockers, the super loud hum of the lights above us and the heat building between us, I realized something that was as thrilling as it was terrifying. I wasn’t just steadying him anymore. I wanted him just as desperately.

“Ethan,” I moaned, pulling his hair. “I want you so damn badly.”

“It sounds like you’re begging,” he groaned. “I could totally get used to that.”

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