“Every time he looks at me like that, my chest forgets how to beat. I don’t know how I survived before him.” — Wendy.
The following morning, Wendy sat at her desk, notebook open, staring blankly at the math problem in front of her. A note from last night rested beside her, scribbled quickly in her journal: He’s shameless, and I’m completely lost in him. If this breaks, it might break me.
She shook her head and tried to focus, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Wayne. Every glance, every gentle touch, every soft, lingering kiss replayed vividly in her mind. The world outside her little bubble felt distant — all that mattered was him.
Wayne was unusually attentive that morning, walking beside her in the hallway. Something about his demeanor made her notice it: he observed her more clo
