I couldn’t feel my feet on the ground.
They were moving, yes, carrying me across the now quiet campus, but every step felt detached—like I was floating outside myself, trapped somewhere between memory and reality.
My dorm loomed far ahead, glowing faintly with warm yellow windows, but it might as well have been miles away.
Because all I could think about was his lips.
Ryans’ lips.
On mine.
God, his lips.
I pressed my fingers to my mouth as if the ghost of him was still there, heat lingering even though the night air was cold against my skin. My chest tightened at the memory of the way he’d kissed me—not tentative, not mechanical, but deep. Real. Like he’d meant it.
And God help me, I’d kissed him back.
No hesitation. No thought of the stupid deal we made. I hadn’t remembered tha
