The café hangout finally ended. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I mumbled my goodbyes to the group and walked out into the freezing March air, heading straight for my car at the far end of the parking lot.

  Just as I pulled my keys out of my pocket, I heard the rapid sp of sneakers on the asphalt.

  "Daeron!"

  I turned around. Jessica was jogging toward me, her arms crossed tight over her chest to block the wind.

  "Why are you being so distant today?" she demanded, stopping a few feet away.

  "Uhh. Nothing," I lied, my voice ft. "I'm just exhausted and I miss my bed."

  I pulled the driver's side door open and dropped into the seat, expecting her to walk back to her own car. Instead, she walked around the front grille, yanked the passenger door open, and climbed inside, bringing the scent of vanil into the cold cabin.

  "Uh. Did you need a lift?" I asked, putting the key in the ignition to turn the heater on.

  "No. I want to talk." She shifted in her seat to face me, her green eyes locked onto mine. "About why you're acting so cold to me."

  I stared at her, the jealousy from the gymnasium finally boiling over. I took my hand off the keys and gripped the steering wheel.

  "Fine. You want to talk? Tell me the truth. Are you hiding something from me?"

  She flinched slightly, her guarded expression slipping. "Hiding what?"

  "Don’t py dumb, Jess," I snapped, my voice rising in the confined space. "I'm not an idiot. I noticed how you started stuttering and panicking the second Alphonse was mentioned at the table. And when I caught you whispering with him in the gym today? You practically ran away the second you realized I was looking at you."

  "W-what?" The panic in her eyes vanished, instantly repced by a wide, amused smirk. "Wait. Are you jealous?"

  "I’m not jealous. I just despise liars," I exhaled, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "Look, if you have a massive crush on the guy, just say it. Or perhaps you two are already a secret couple and—"

  The Ambush.

  She didn't let me finish.

  Jessica unbuckled her seatbelt, threw her leg over the center console, and straddled my p right there in the driver's seat.

  Before my brain could even process the movement, she grabbed my jaw and crashed her lips onto mine. It wasn't a sweet kiss. It was aggressive, hungry, and desperate. The taste of her coffee and the overwhelming scent of vanil short-circuited every logical thought in my head. My anger evaporated instantly, repced by a violent surge of adrenaline.

  I grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against my body. Her skin was incredibly soft under my hands. I kissed her back hard, parting her lips, wanting to devour her completely.

  Yeah, my frantic mind supplied. She's right here. I’ll make her mine.

  She broke the kiss, both of us panting heavily in the cold air of the cabin. She looked down at me, a victorious gleam in her eyes. "Does this answer your question, Tiger?"

  I couldn't speak. She didn't wait for me to. She leaned forward, pressing her open mouth against my neck, dragging her tongue over my pulse point. A violent jolt of electricity shot down my spine. The warm, heavy puffs of her breath against my skin drove my lust through the roof.

  My hands moved with a mind of their own, exploring the curves I had only ever looked at. I traced her lean waist and moved my hands up to cup her firm breasts through her shirt. She arched her back, letting out a heavy, ragged sigh as my thumbs brushed over her tight nipples. She moved her mouth up to my earlobe, biting down gently, sending all the blood in my body rushing directly to my groin.

  "Touch me down there, Tiger," she whispered, her voice rough and seductive against my ear.

  I didn't hesitate. I slid my right hand down her hip, slipping between her thighs. Her panties were already soaked.

  "You make me so fucking wet, Tiger," she moaned into my neck.

  She captured my lips again in a bruising kiss, her heartbeat hammering wildly against my chest. She adjusted her weight, positioning her soaked center perfectly over the hard bulge in my jeans. She pushed her hips down hard, grinding against me with a slow, agonizing rhythm.

  The friction through the denim was maddening. She kissed me harder, her hips snapping down faster as she chased the edge. She dug her nails into my shoulders, a breathless, high-pitched squeal escaping her throat. With a loud whimper, her body went rigid. She trembled violently against me, burying her flushed face in my shoulder as she rode out the intense climax, her heat seeping straight through my jeans.

  "Fuck," I rasped, my chest heaving as I held her tight. "That was hot, Jess."

  She stayed buried in my neck for a long minute, her rapid heartbeat slowly syncing with mine. When she finally lifted her head, her green eyes were heavy and lidded. A slow, wicked smile spread across her flushed face.

  She slid off my p, returning to the passenger seat, but she didn't let go of me. She reached across the console and unzipped my jeans.

  "Let me take care of you now," she purred.

  She pushed my boxers down and wrapped her small, warm hand tightly around my aching shaft. "Wow," she giggled, her eyes widening slightly in the dark. "You’re really packing down there, Tiger."

  "You like it?" I breathed out, my head falling back against the headrest.

  She smirked. She leaned down and dragged her wet tongue slowly up the underside of my shaft. She looked up at me through her long eyeshes, her green eyes glowing in the dim streetlights.

  "Fuck, Jess. You’re amazing," I groaned, closing my eyes, ready to finally let go.

  BZZZZZT.

  A loud, obnoxious vibration rattled the pstic cup holder.

  Jessica froze. We both looked down. Her phone screen was lit up brightly in the dark car.

  SEAN. "Shit," Jessica gasped, immediately pulling her hand away from me and snatching the phone. "Sorry, Tiger. I have to pick this up."

  She cleared her throat, smoothed her hair, and answered the call. "Hey, Sean... Yeah, I'm leaving the parking lot right now... Okay, I'll be right there."

  She hung up, tossing the phone into her purse. The heavy, intoxicating sexual fog in the car had completely vanished, repced by the freezing reality of a Chicago winter.

  "Sorry, Tiger," she said, looking genuinely guilty. "Sean is looking for me. I have to go home right now or he's going to freak out."

  "Oh, fuck," I groaned, dropping my head back against the seat. "Are you seriously blue-balling me right now?"

  "I will make it up to you ter! I promise."

  "Heh. Fine," I sighed, fumbling in the dark to fix my boxers and zip my pants back up. "Don’t let me hold you up."

  She leaned over the console, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. "Hey. I promise, really. I’ll make it up to you ter, Tiger."

  She fshed me a pyful wink, pushed the passenger door open, and ran across the dark parking lot toward her own car.

  I sat alone in the freezing driver's seat. Fuck. What the hell just happened? My brain was completely scrambled. I shoved the key into the ignition and drove home, my mind racing almost as fast as my painfully unresolved blue balls.

  **

  After that night in the freezing parking lot, the dynamic completely shifted.

  Jessica and I became inseparable again. She started joining our gym sessions, sitting on the mats while I lifted. Basically, wherever I went, she was there. And whenever we found a sliver of privacy—an empty cssroom, the back seat of my car, the shadows behind the bleachers—things got incredibly intimate.

  We never went all the way. It was just heavy petting, desperate grinding, and oral. We operated on a strict, non-verbal agreement: whatever happened behind closed doors stayed behind closed doors. In public, we were just best friends. I thought we were being incredibly stealthy.

  Of course, the boys aren't idiots. They suspected something was going on. But we stubbornly maintained the illusion that nothing had changed.

  My other massive distraction was the Dojo. The regional Karate Tournament was scheduled for April, and my Sensei was pushing me to my absolute physical limits. I was constantly sore, and I frequently showed up to school hiding nasty, blooming bruises under my clothes from taking heavy hits during sparring.

  *

  After the final bell, the boys and I were killing time, lounging on the bottom rows of the gymnasium bleachers.

  "Shit, man, what kind of underground fight club training are you doing?" Tyson asked, pointing a massive finger at the side of my head.

  "You look like you just got tossed out of a bar window, D-boy!" Jones ughed, leaning over to inspect the fresh, angry cut on my temple.

  "It's fine. It's just from regur training," I answered calmly, pulling my hood up to cover it.

  "What the fuck? You literally have a split forehead, brah! Last week you had a nasty, swollen rib! Are you sure this is from Karate?" Tyson asked. A knowing, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. "Are you sure you didn't get it from Jessica?"

  "Hey, why are you mentioning my name, big guy?"

  We all looked up. Jessica was standing at the edge of the bleachers, holding her cheer bag.

  "Oh shit, speak of the devil! You always pop up out of nowhere when we say your name, girl!" Tyson ughed, leaning back on his elbows.

  Jessica’s eyes darted to me. She immediately dropped her bag. "Oh my God!! Daeron! You got injured again?!"

  "Nah, it's just a small cut from a stray elbow during a spar," I said quickly, trying to defuse her panic.

  "What kind of sparring partner are you fighting?! A grizzly bear?! You always have new bruises every single day!" she yelled, her protective instincts completely taking over.

  "Don’t exaggerate things, Cheeto," I muttered, shooting her a warning look. "It’s normal."

  "Hold on. Hold on a second."

  Alvin stepped forward. He pushed his gsses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes narrowing into analytical slits. "How did you know that Daeron gets new bruises every day, Jess?"

  Jessica blinked, realizing she was in dangerous territory. "By using my eyes, Al!! You can't see this giant cut on his face?" she deflected aggressively.

  "Well, yes," Alvin reasoned calmly. "But we only know about the cut on his face, and the bruised rib from st week because Daeron kept wincing when he stretched. Where are all these other bruises you're talking about?"

  "He has lots of bruises all over his body, Al! You guys cim you’re his best friends! You should be way more attentive to him!" Jessica spouted, crossing her arms defensively.

  Tyson caught the slip-up instantly. He sat up straight, narrowing his dark eyes at her. "Well, Daeron rarely takes his shirt off in front of us. So... how exactly did you see the bruises on his body, Jess?"

  Checkmate.

  Jessica completely froze. Her face turned a bright, violent shade of crimson. "Well… I... uhhh... Daeron told me!" she panicked, pointing a trembling finger at me.

  Alvin and Tyson slowly turned their heads in unison, staring at me in absolute, judgmental disbelief. Jones completely missed the entire exchange, probably too busy typing a text message to Airin on his phone.

  "Well! I gotta go to practice now! Bye guys!" Jessica squeaked. She grabbed her bag, spun around, and practically sprinted out of the gymnasium doors.

  Tyson slowly turned back to me. His face was completely deadpan. "Well. I think it’s story time, Daeron."

  I cleared my throat, my brain scrambling for an excuse. "Well, umm... you guys never ask me about my training. Jessica always asks me, so I just... describe my injuries to her."

  "But Jessica just explicitly stated she saw them with her own eyes," Alvin pointed out, trapping me in the lie with fwless nerd logic.

  "....."

  "....."

  "...."

  "Oh my God, brah!!" Tyson groaned, dragging a heavy hand down his face. "You don't have to lie to us! At least tell your brothers if you're fooling around with her, man."

  Alvin leaned in close to my shoulder, a look of pure awe on his face. "Damn, bro! You got a really good 'score,' huh?" he whispered loudly.

  I just stared at the gym floor, my ears burning. My stealthy, secret arrangement had been completely dismantled in less than two minutes. But thankfully, Tyson respected my silence. After that brutal interrogation, they dropped the subject, and I buried myself back in my training until the day of the April Tournament finally arrived.