The chant grew louder, pounding in my ears, blending with the bass of the party music until it felt like the walls themselves were demanding my answer.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Everyone clapped, stomped their feet, and banged their cups on tables. A drumroll started up from sowhere, so idiot using a tray like a makeshift drum. The pressure pressed against my skin like heat. My pulse hamred as all eyes turned to .
I tried to play it off, circling around like I was choosing my prey, flashing a teasing smile, acting like I had all the control. But inside, I was panicking. Who was I supposed to kiss? Marcus was here. The sa Marcus who shredded my heart hours ago. If I picked him, I’d look desperate. If I kissed soone else, I’d look bitter.
My laugh sounded hollow even to my own ears. I raised my glass like I was stalling, pretending to sip, pretending I was cool, pretending the pit in my stomach wasn’t growing deeper by the second.
Then...
Warm hands slid around mine from behind.
The crowd gasped, and I froze, my heart flipping into my throat. My entire body went rigid until I turned, slowly, as if afraid the mont would vanish if I moved too fast.
Zion. I was seeing clear ...
Tall, broader than I rembered, his features sharper, more refined. His suit was clean and expensive, tailored like it had been sewn directly onto him. His hair fell in soft waves that made him look both polished and carelessly undone. And that smile, God, that smile.
"Sharon," he said my na like a secret, like it still belonged to him after all this ti. His voice was deep, smoother than I rembered, but still carrying that hint of softness that once made trust him with everything.
I couldn’t help it. My lips parted in shock, then curled upward. "Zion?"
We hugged, and for a mont, the noise of the party drowned out. It was just us two, pieces of the past colliding in the present. His scent was familiar yet new, expensive cologne mixing with sothing that was just... him.
The room went silent for a beat, as if everyone was watching the reunion in slow motion. Then the host broke it.
"Hey! This is a birthday ga, not so reunion romance. Rules are rules...kiss him already!"
The chant started again, stronger, dirtier this ti.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I looked at Zion, intending to laugh it off, intending to give him a quick peck and escape the madness. He chuckled, raising a brow like Are we really doing this?
Well, screw it.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against his... soft, brief, enough to satisfy the crowd. Or so I thought.
But before I could pull away, Zion’s hand tightened on my wrist. His other hand cupped the back of my neck, and he pulled back in.
The kiss deepened instantly. His mouth moved against mine with a hunger I didn’t expect. His tongue brushed mine, slow but firm, sending sparks racing down my spine. My knees nearly gave out as the crowd exploded into screams and whistles.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but drown in the feel of him.
I leaned in, my lips brushing his, It was supposed to be a peck, sothing playful to satisfy the crowd.
But Zion didn’t let go.
His hand slid from my wrist to my waist, firm and grounding, pulling flush against his chest. His fingers threading through my hair, holding still as he deepened the kiss.
The sudden heat of his mouth stole my breath. His tongue teased mine, slow at first, then hungrier, demanding. A gasp slipped from , swallowed instantly between our lips, my fingers clutching at his jacket like he was the only thing holding upright.
All I felt was him.
Zion kissed like he’d been waiting years for this mont. His lips moved with a rhythm that made my stomach clench and my skin tingle. His thumb brushed the side of my jaw, tilting my head just enough for him to take deeper, and I moaned softly into his mouth before I could stop myself
When he pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. He lingered, brushing his lips over mine one last ti, savoring , before looking into my eyes with that dark, steady gaze that made it hard to breathe
By the ti he finally pulled back totally, I was breathless, his eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable, his lips curved in the smallest victorious smirk.
The room was chaos now, everyone cheering, clapping, hooting.
But all I saw, over the sea of bodies, was Marcus.
He wasn’t cheering. He wasn’t clapping. He wasn’t even pretending to enjoy it.
His jaw was locked, the muscle ticking as his grip tightened around his glass. His eyes were daggers, burning into , into Zion, into the space between us that felt like it had been lit on fire.
And yet, he said nothing. Not one word.
---
The rest of the ga blurred. Sohow, Zion and I drifted away from the center of attention, slipping to the side where the noise felt more distant.
"You haven’t changed much," he said, that familiar lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "Still dramatic, still pulling a crowd."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Please. That was your fault, not mine. You’re the one who..." I stopped, my cheeks heating at the mory of the kiss.
Zion tilted his head, smug. "Who what? Saved you from humiliation? You looked like you were about to combust in there."
I swatted at him playfully, rolling my eyes. "You haven’t changed either. Still think you’re everyone’s hero."
"Maybe just yours," he said softly.
My chest tightened, and I had to look away, sipping my drink to cover the sudden swirl in my stomach.
We slipped into easy conversation, the kind that didn’t feel forced. We talked about high school, about the tis I bossed him around, about when he took the bla after I knocked over a whole tray of lab equipnt in chemistry class.
"I’ll never forget how angry your mom was," I laughed.
"She almost grounded for a month," he groaned. "But it was worth it." the laugh ca constantly
"You were such a soft baby back then," I teased, arching a brow. "Are you still?"
He scoffed, pretending to look offended. "Soft? Trust , Sharon, I’m anything but soft now."
The way he said it sent a shiver through , one I quickly smothered with a fake cough.
But every ti we laughed, every ti our eyes t, I felt Marcus’s stare burn hotter from across the room. And when Zion leaned in to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear, Marcus snapped.
He slamd his drink down on the table, the sound sharp, startling. Then he stord out of the party without a word.
---
By the end of the night, the crowd had thinned. Maxie found , her eyes darting between and Zion, suspicion etched all over her face. "Shay, we’re leaving with Marcus, right?"
I glanced toward the door. Marcus was long gone.
Before I could answer, Zion spoke up. "I’ll give her a ride." His tone was firm, casual, but his eyes stayed on , waiting for my reaction.
Maxie’s lips parted, ready to argue, but I squeezed her hand gently. "It’s fine. I’ll be okay."
The ride ho was quiet at first, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows. Then Zion chuckled.
"Do you rember when you made skip class to buy you at pies from the cafeteria, and I got caught?"
I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach. "Oh my God, yes! You looked like you were about to cry. I swear you were the softest thing ever."
"I wasn’t crying," he protested, grinning. "I was... stressed."
"Uh-huh. Stressed with tears running down your face."
He groaned, shaking his head. "You’re never going to let that go, are you?"
"Not a chance," I said, smiling.
The air between us ward, the nostalgia wrapping around like a blanket. For a mont, it was like the years hadn’t passed, like we were still those two kids sneaking notes in class, sharing secrets no one else knew.
When we pulled up to my apartnt, I hesitated. "Do you... want to co in? Just for a drink?"
He gave a small smile, shaking his head. "I’d love to, but I should go. Honestly, I’m not much of a party person. My friend dragged there tonight. Normally, I’d rather stay in with a book or so music."
My chest ached at how genuine he sounded. I nodded, trying not to show the flicker of disappointnt. "Fair enough."
He leaned closer, brushing his lips lightly against my cheek. "Goodnight, Sharon."
"Goodnight, Zion," I whispered.
---
Hours later, I lay sprawled across my bed, phone in hand, laughing into my pillow as Zion and I texted back and forth. We joked about our teachers, about the embarrassing things we used to do, about how weird it felt to be reconnecting after all these years.
I couldn’t stop smiling. For the first ti in a long ti, the ache inside felt lighter.
Until my phone buzzed again.
A new ssage. From an unknown number.
My laughter died instantly as I clicked it open.
"I’ve given you more than enough ti to fix your ss. A signed contract doesn’t wait forever. Consider this a warning."
My stomach dropped. The glow of the screen felt harsh against my skin, the letters burning into .
The joy from the night vanished, replaced with a chill that crawled up my spine.
And just like that, my smile was gone.
What contract? With who?
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