Ethan was walking through the busy corridor, his mind replaying everything that had happened between him and James.
The night in his apartment kept flashing back — the heat of James’s body against his, the way James had pinned him to the wall, the desperate kisses, the way James had touched him like he couldn’t stop himself, the low groans and the way Ethan had moaned his name. For a moment, it had felt real. Like maybe they could have something together. Like maybe James saw him as more than just a weakling to bully.
But then he had seen James in the hallway, kissing that girl. The way James had held her waist, the casual way their lips met — it looked easy, familiar, like it meant nothing special. Like what had happened between them was nothing at all.
Ethan’s chest ached. Was he the
