MAREN’S POV
The days leading up to Friday were a haze of anxiety and blurred faces.
In classes, my eyes sought Thorne out of pure predatory instinct.
I detailed the severe line of his jaw as he wrote on the chalkboard, the way his broad shoulders strained the fabric of his dark suits, and above all, that silver gaze that settled on me for seconds that felt like centuries.
Every time our gazes met, the air seemed to vanish from the classroom, leaving me with a pressure in my chest that made it difficult to breathe.
To my misfortune, James would always take my hand or seek conversation with me, and Thorne’s gaze would pull away from me as if it burned.
Fortunately, Friday dawned without classes for me, but that calm only fed my doubts.
"Why invite me on his birthday?" I asked myself o
