PopularNovelChapter 296 She'd never fallen for anyone before. Chasing after someone was uncharted territory, so Mila could only rely on what she'd gleaned from the internet.
She did her best to pay attention to everything Lysander liked and tried to treat him well.
But with all the rumors about him being cold and distant with women, Mila worried he would push her away if she con too strong. So, she kept her feelings carefully hidden, inching closer bit by bit-hoping that, in time, he'd get to know her, and maybe, just maybe, something would blossom.
Spring had already arrived before she realized how long she'd been trying.
After another ghad wrapped up, Mila stayed behind to help with the usual post-match chaos. Only then did she notice a black duffel bag left sitting on a chair in the corner. It was Lysander's.
Did he forget his bag? She hesitated, glanced around, and, seeing no sign of him, grabbed the bag and hurried out, hoping to catch up and return it-an excuse for a little more ttogether.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAs she reached the exit, a cool, clear male voice called down from above, stopping her in her tracks. "Why do you have my bag?" Mila froze, then looked up.
There he was-Lysander, dressed in clean athletic gear, standing in a shaft of sunlight. He looked so striking and untouchable that it almost hurt to look at him. Even though she'd seen his face plenty of times these past few weeks, her cheeks still went hot every time.
She drew a shaky breath, willing herself to sound calm. "I-I thought you'd already left and forgotten your things, so I..." Before she could finish, Lysander cut her off, his impatience clear.
"Do you like me?" The question hit her like a punch to the gut. Mila's voice caught in her throat. Her secret was laid bare in an instant-her mind buzzing so loudly she could barely move.
The silence stretched between them.
Then, Lysander walked down the stairs, each step deliberate and unhurried. His hair was still damp from a quick rinse, dark strands shining in the sun. His sharp, fox-like eyes locked onto her-cool, enigmatic, and a little dangerous-as he looked down at the girl standing there, visibly rattled.
"You like me? How much do you like me?" His voice was low, almost unsure, but there was a smoldering intensity behind the question that set her heart racing.
Mila didn't know what possessed her, but she heard herself say, voice trembling, "A lot. I really like you." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Her heart thundered in her chest; she was dizzy, barely able to stand, one hand gripping the railing for support. She braced for rejection, cursing her own recklessness, ready to apologize when suddenly the world went dark.
On the stairs above, Lysander leaned down and kissed her.
His lips were soft, warm, and electrifying. The kiss was gentle at first, but behind it, there was a heat that threatened to consher. Fireworks seemed to explode in her chest.
Did Lysander just kiss her? Lysander, the guy everyone called "emotionless," the one rumored to be immune to romance-he kissed her? Did that mean he liked her too? For a split second, Mila thought she might burst into tears. Then reality crashed back in, and she quickly pushed him away, stopping him before the kiss could deepen.
He frowned, looking more than a little annoyed. "What's wrong?" Mila's face was flushed scarlet. Embarrassed and desperate to escape, she still managed to stammer, "W-we're not even together yet. We shouldn't be kissing." "Together?" Lysander's brow furrowed. "Together how?" She blinked, thrown by his confusion, and stammered, "Like..... dating. You only kiss if you're boyfriend and girlfriend, right?" He scoffed, running a hand through his damp hair, his handsface twisted in irritation—as if he'd just heard a bad joke.
"My girlfriend? What makes you think you're good enough for that?"
He didn't bother to hide his impatience, brushing past her with muttered, "Finally meet someone who actually makes my heart race, and it turns out she's a headache." And then he was gone.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmMila stood frozen on the stairs. The gentle spring breeze felt suddenly cold. Her composure crumbled, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks.
Her first crush, her naïve, hopeful dreams about love-Lysander tore them apart without a second thought.
It hit her with painful clarity: Lysander didn't care about her. He just wanted her body, with no intention of taking responsibility.
And in that moment, Mila realized she didn't want to like Lysander anymore.
Night had fallen.
A black SUV sped down the road. Mila jolted awake from a nightmare, gasping for air.
For a few moments, she felt just like that younger, more innocent version of herself-heart pounding, chest tight. part poundin She pressed a hand to her heart, forcing herself to breathe, quietly whispering again and again: "It's okay. It's over. It's all in the past."
Gradually, her panic faded. When she finally looked up, she found Archie staring at her in shock, clearly startled by her outburst. The car had already rolled to a stop.
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