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“Sometimes,” he says, stepping closer, “the best questions are the ones without easy answers.”
I glance over my shoulder, scanning the room. Marble statues gaze back at me, unseeing, as whispers of other museum-goers become distant murmurs. I lean in closer to Conrad, my voice a hushed confession.
“It’s fun, you know? This…us,” I murmur, eyes darting to his before flitting away. “It’s not about feelings. That would be unrealistic.”
A flicker of something crosses his face, too quick to read. He steps back slightly, the space between us growing. He smiles, easy and controlled, hiding any trace of what might lie beneath.
“Fun,” he echoes, nodding. “That’s what it’s all about, right?”
His agreement stings, a tiny prick to my heart. But I nod, forcing my lips into a mirror of his smile.
“Exactly. Just fun.” I bite my lip, curiosity burning. “Okay, my turn again. How did you guys even start…sharing?”
Conrad leans against a marble column, his gaze drifting to the frescoed ceiling before meeting mine. There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“College,” he says with a chuckle. “It was accidental, really. Levi…he needed someone else there. And Grayson? He just liked it.”
“Needed?” I probe, but Conrad holds up a hand.
“Wait. My turn.” He steps forward, closing the gap between us. His voice drops to a whisper. “I want to kiss you.”
My breath catches. Rules be damned, he’s serious.
His eyes lock on mine, dark and intent. The air between us thickens with unspoken promises. He leans in, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. My heart hammers in my chest, anticipation coiling tight in my belly.
“Professor York?” The voice slices through our bubble—a student, notebook in hand, oblivious to the moment they’re shattering. “Can you explain this sculpture again?”
I blink, the spell broken. Without a word, I slip away, weaving through the clusters of people admiring the ancient artifacts. My cheeks flame hot, and I can’t tell if it’s from the interruption or the almost kiss.
Behind me, I hear Conrad’s patient explanation, the educator back in control. But I don’t look back. I can’t. Because despite what I’ve said, my pulse still races for more than just fun.
And that terrifies me.
34
BRIELLE
The neon sign of the karaoke bar flickers in the distance, and my stomach knots up. Sierra’s beside me, her energy infectious as she bounces on the balls of her feet.
“Come on, Brielle! It’ll be a blast!”
I hesitate, shifting from one foot to the other. “Sierra, you know I can’t sing. I’ll just…I’ll make a fool of myself.”
She grabs my hands, her grip warm and reassuring. “It’s not about hitting every note, Brie. It’s about letting loose. Having fun!”
I try to imagine myself on stage, microphone in hand, but the image blurs with anxiety. Fun isn’t the word that comes to mind.
“Everyone’s going to be cheering for you,” she insists, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Plus, friends push each other out of their comfort zones. That’s what makes it thrilling!”
Her enthusiasm is hard to resist, and a reluctant smile tugs at my lips. Sierra’s right—staying in the safe zone hasn’t exactly made life memorable lately.
“Okay, okay,” I concede with a soft sigh, feeling the resistance crumble inside me. “Let’s do this.”
“YES!” Sierra pumps her fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re going to be amazing!”
As we step toward the entrance, the sounds of laughter and music spill out onto the sidewalk. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all. Maybe.
Inside the bar, the energy shifts—more vibrant, more alive. I weave through clusters of people. The back room is an alcove of chatter and clinking glasses. Familiar faces from college, some blurred by classes I barely remember. My heart hammers a rhythm, not entirely due to nerves.
