The shower was the only place left that still felt private.
I stood under the hot spray long after the water should have gone cold, letting it beat against my bruised ribs and the knot of tension between my shoulders. Steam filled the small bathroom, thick and hazy, turning the mirror into a blank canvas. Every drop that slid down my skin reminded me of the way Caleb’s fingers had traced the same paths the night before—careful, trembling, never quite crossing the line we both kept pretending didn’t exist.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the pain instead of him. The echo of Kane’s hits. The calculating look in Coach Harlan’s eyes. Lila’s name hanging over every collision like a warning. But the harder I tried to push Caleb out, the more vividly he appeared behind my eyelids—his for
