Chapter 33
The low hum of conversation faded as Cole stepped to the front of the classroom, his voice steady and sure as he launched into the day's lesson. Lena sat near the back, pen in hand, her notebook open, lines already filling with neat writing. She tried—truly tried—to focus. But the moment she dared glance up from her page, her gaze found Dean.
He sat three rows ahead, slightly turned, as if resisting the urge to look back. But their eyes met anyway, fleeting but heavy, and something inside her chest fluttered. It was the same pull she had tried to ignore for two weeks now, the same pull that had her hovering over the *reply* button more nights than she cared to admit.
She looked away, cheeks warming, and tried to bury herself in Cole’s voice—his lecture on structure, on the wa
