"Maybe we—" Craig started, his voice low and rough, then he cut himself off. He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration clear in the tight set of his jaw. "Maybe we should head back. It’s getting late." Without waiting for her answer, he turned away, the sharp edge of his words hanging between them like a warning.
Inside, Craig’s mind was a storm. Every fiber of his being scread to close the distance, to reach for her again—to claim her like he’d imagined a hundred tis before. But the weight of the risks pressed down on him like a stone.
If Conor found out, if his father caught wind of it... the fallout would be chaos. She was a girl who ca to Belford to accuse his family of murder—how could he let himself fall for her? How could he risk being owned, completely, by soone so dangerous to his world?
He clenched his fists, forcing the tension down, fighting the pull that threatened to undo him. He needed control—he needed to hold the line before everything slipped.
lina’s quiet nod was all the answer he needed. "About my ratings," she said softly, breaking the silence.
He smirked, the tension easing just enough. "I’ll rate you fair enough."
She raised an eyebrow, playful despite the tension. "Are you sure?"
He gave a lazy shrug. "Yeah, no problem."
The small exchange was enough to ease the thick air between them. But inside, neither of them could shake the pull of what had just passed—the unsaid, the almost-confessed.
Craig gripped the steering wheel tighter, his jaw clenched. Every glance in the rearview mirror reminded him of how close they had been, how dangerously close. He wanted to reach over, to tell her to stay—just a little longer—but the fear of what it would an held him back. If he let himself go, if he showed her how much she already owned his heart, the fallout would be unstoppable.
Beside him, rlina stared out the window, her mind a battlefield of confusion and longing. The warmth of his touch still lingered on her skin, the intensity of his gaze burning behind her eyes. Part of her wanted to run back inside and throw herself into that dangerous fire. Another part wanted to protect herself from the ss she knew this would beco.
The car humd softly through the night, two people trapped in their own worlds, fighting the sa battle but too proud—or too scared—to admit it.
When Craig finally pulled up outside her dorm, the silence stretched between them again.
He reached over the console, hesitating for a mont before his voice broke the quiet. "Get inside safe, yeah?"
rlina nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I will. You too."
rlina was already moving toward the door, the tension between them still crackling in the air, when Craig’s voice stopped her.
"And rlina..." His tone was low, earnest, and the quiet urgency in it made her freeze in place.
She turned back slowly, searching his eyes.
"I ant what I said," he continued, "I’ll help you, even if just to prove my brother’s innocence."
Those words hung between them, heavy and real.
She swallowed, feeling a flicker of sothing she hadn’t expected—hope, maybe, or relief. The weight she’d been carrying suddenly felt a little lighter.
"Goodnight, Craig," she said softly, voice trembling with the vulnerability she wasn’t ready to show.
He didn’t reply, but his eyes held a warmth that spoke louder than words ever could.
rlina stepped out into the cold night air, the chill wrapping around her like a shield—protecting her from the storm inside, but also reminding her of how much she still didn’t know.
Just as she reached the door, she glanced back and caught him lingering in the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on her until she disappeared inside.
Her heart lted just a little at the sight.
Then the engine started, and he drove off, leaving her with a storm of emotions swirling inside.
lina barely closed the door before gan launched at her like a heat-seeking missile.
"So?" gan’s grin stretched wide. "How was it? Did he almost eat you alive during the tutorials?"
Phoebe popped her head up from her bed, eyes gleaming. "You guys didn’t fight again, right? You look... flushed."
rlina blinked, a little too long.
"No fights," she said finally, kicking off her shoes with studied nonchalance. "He was... actually fair. Like, genuinely fair."
gan narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Fair? Craig Lesnar? Is he dying?"
Phoebe gasped. "Maybe it’s so freak tutoring side effect. You made him human."
rlina let out a short laugh, one she didn’t quite feel. "Right. That must be it."
But her body was still humming. Her chest still tight. Her skin still marked by the feel of his fingers under her chin. That whisper of a touch had branded her. And that look—God, that look—like he saw her down to her soul and still wanted to stay. He didn’t even kiss her, yet it felt like her entire being had been rewired.
One second they were barely touching.
The next, it felt like they were standing on the edge of sothing that could destroy them both.
And then he stepped back.
Maybe we should leave, he’d said.
Just like that, the fire between them was shoved back into the shadows. Contained. Tad. But not forgotten. Not for a second.
"Earth to l," Phoebe waved a hand in front of her. "You zoned out. What’s going on? Did sothing happen?"
lina shook her head too quickly. "No. I an... nothing. Just... he made coffee. Took to so cabin by the lake to talk. It was chill."
"Hold up." gan sat up straighter. "Craig Lesnar made coffee? Like, with his own hands?"
rlina tried to keep her face neutral. "Yeah. Weird, right?"
He looked at her like she mattered.
He touched her like he’d been holding back for years.
He asked her to trust him—not Conor, not his family. Him.
But she couldn’t say any of that out loud. Not yet. Not when she couldn’t even explain it to herself.
Phoebe scoffed. "Okay, sothing’s definitely going on. He’s never ’chill.’ Are you sure you two didn’t—" she made a kissing gesture, followed by a dramatic eyebrow wiggle.
rlina snorted, almost choking on air. "No. God, Phoebe."
But her cheeks betrayed her. Warm. Betrayed by the mory of her lips parting, of her eyes dropping to his mouth, of his eyes doing the exact sa thing.
They hadn’t kissed.
But it looked like they both wanted to.
And sohow that felt worse.
Worse because it still lingered. Because she couldn’t stop replaying the tension that coiled so tight between them, one wrong move and it would’ve snapped.
Worse because he stopped it.
He stopped it, not her.
Phoebe tilted her head, squinting. "You’re being weird. Like, ’I’ve done sothing I can’t undo’ weird."
gan rolled her eyes. "Okay, but like... Phoebe, give it a rest. The fact that you even think sothing could have happened? Please. Have you seen them? They can’t stand each other."
rlina didn’t flinch, but sothing in her chest tensed. gan ant it as defense, sure, but that didn’t stop the words from slicing deep. She was just stating the obvious. At least, what used to be obvious. What should’ve been obvious.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. "No, I’m serious. Look at her. She’s got that... I don’t know, that post-romantic tension glow. Like she just got emotionally whiplashed and kinda liked it."
"I’m just tired," rlina said quietly, folding herself into the edge of the bed. Her fingers curled into the blanket, as if holding on to sothing solid might stop her mind from spiraling.
But inside, she wasn’t tired. She was wrecked. Wrecked by a mont that didn’t even end in a kiss, but had sohow stripped her bare.
Why did he stop?
Why did he look so torn after?
And why—after everything—did he still wait in his car, watching, making sure she got inside before he drove off?
None of it made sense.
He wasn’t supposed to care.
But he did.
And now she was caught between the version of Craig she’d heard about... and the one who looked at her like she was the only thing in his world worth breaking rules for.
Phoebe flopped onto her side dramatically, eyes narrowing like she was piecing together a conspiracy theory.
"It’s just..." she started, dragging out the words, "after what happened tonight—I don’t know. Keith thinks Craig’s always weird around you."
rlina blinked. "Weird how?"
Phoebe shrugged, then gave her a look. "Like... weird-weird. Like he might actually be into you."
gan choked on her water.
rlina stared at the ceiling, her pulse doing cartwheels.
And that was the mont she realized—she didn’t know if she wanted Phoebe to be wrong... or terrifyingly right.
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