For a moment, everything blurred—the sounds of the party downstairs, the weight of the past few weeks, even the flicker of the hallway light. It all dimmed. My world narrowed to just Finn. His hands, strong and unyielding, gripped my arms, pulling me closer, and before I could even process what was happening, his lips were on mine.
It wasn’t part of the deal.
That single thought tried to claw its way to the front of my mind, but it couldn’t break through the intensity of the moment. The kiss was unexpected, raw, and demanding. My instinct was to pull away, to put a stop to whatever this was before it could spiral even further. But instead, something inside me shifted—snapped.
My hands, which had been hanging uselessly at my sides, suddenly moved of their own accord. I found myself gripping the front of his shirt, curling my fingers into the fabric like I was afraid he’d pull away. The kiss deepened, becoming something that wasn’t part of the game we had been playing. This was real—tangible in a way that made my heart race, my stomach twist, and my thoughts scatter in every direction.
The party below us—the music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—faded into a dull hum in the background. It was like we were standing in a bubble, cut off from everything else. Ciara, the fake relationship, even Elordi’s supposed interest—all of it slipped away, as though it was never important to begin with.
I broke the kiss first, gasping for breath. Our foreheads rested against each other, and for a moment, neither of us moved. The space between us crackled with tension—electric and fragile at the same time.
“This isn’t part of our deal,” I whispered, my breath shaky. I barely recognized my own voice, soft and uncertain.
Finn’s grip on my arms softened, his hands trailing up to cup my face. His touch was gentle, his thumb tracing slow circles on my cheek as though he was memorizing the shape of my face. “So stop,” he whispered back, his voice barely audible, laced with something more—something deeper.
My heart raced, my mind scrambling for clarity. This was Finn—my brother’s best friend, the guy I’d been pretending to date. It wasn’t supposed to be real. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
But here I was, caught in the moment, caught in him.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I don’t want to,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. They hung in the air between us, fragile but true.
Finn’s dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a second, I thought he might kiss me again. His gaze was intense, filled with something that made my pulse quicken. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer. It was like the whole room had shrunk, and the only thing that mattered was the space between us, shrinking by the second.
His mouth hovered close to mine again, as though he was waiting for permission to close the gap. The temptation was overwhelming, and I could feel myself leaning in, my body betraying my mind.