The weekend crashes in and I still don’t have an answer for Elias. My head’s been spinning nonstop with thoughts of Ezra, and the way my body remembers every single touch even when I try to forget.
The heat of his hands, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the room—it’s all I can think about. Today is also the huge game between Easton Red Bulls versus D’Variants.
Perfect.
I don’t want to go. Elias wants me at the art museum near faculty row so we can talk.
Ezra sent me a private ticket for the reserved seats right behind the bench.
It’s stupidly sweet and makes my stomach flip every time I look at it. Heat creeps up my neck just thinking about sitting there, watching him dominate the ice.
I’m sitting on my bed, fully dressed in my tight jeans paired with a white wooly
