And the girls Noah uses…
They weren’t stupid. They weren’t helpless. They knew who he was, what he was. So why were they still all over him like he was the prize of the damn campus?
Noah was magnetic, sure. With that sharp jaw, roguish smirk, and deep, whiskey-smooth voice that made even professors second glance him. But the more I saw, the more I understood. He wasn’t just playing games.
He was the game.
And somehow, I kept losing.
Each new scene chipped at me. I kept telling myself it didn’t matter, that I was above it. But every time I caught him, something cracked a little deeper. Something more personal. Like he was shattering a part of me I didn’t even know was still fragile. Like his recklessness was reaching into my ribcage and shaking something loose.
Until the name dropped.
