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 somewhere, some idiot using a tray like a makeshift drum. The pressure pressed against my skin like heat. My pulse hammered as all eyes turned to me.
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 same Marcus who shredded my heart hours ago. If I picked him, I'd look desperate. If I kissed someone 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 moment would vanish if I moved too fast.
Zion. I was seeing clear ...
Tall, broader than I remembered, 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 name like a secret, like it still belonged to him after all this time. His voice was deep, smoother than I remembered, but still carrying that hint of softness that once made me trust him with everything.
I couldn't help it. My lips parted in shock, then curled upward. "Zion?"
We hugged, and for a moment, 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 something 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 game, not some reunion romance. Rules are rules...kiss him already!"
The chant started again, stronger, dirtier this time.
"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 me 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, something playful to satisfy the crowd.
But Zion didn't let me go.
His hand slid from my wrist to my waist, firm and grounding, pulling me flush against his chest. His fingers threading through my hair, holding me 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 me, swallowed instantly between our lips, my fingers clutching at his jacket like he was the only thing holding me upright.
All I felt was him.
Zion kissed me like he'd been waiting years for this moment. 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 me 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 time, savoring me, before looking into my eyes with that dark, steady gaze that made it hard to breathe
By the time 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 me, 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 game blurred. Somehow, 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 memory 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 times I bossed him around, about when he took the blame after I knocked over a whole tray of lab equipment in chemistry class.
"I'll never forget how angry your mom was," I laughed.
"She almost grounded me for a month," he groaned. "But it was worth it." the laugh came 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 me, Sharon, I'm anything but soft now."
The way he said it sent a shiver through me, one I quickly smothered with a fake cough.
But every time we laughed, every time our eyes met, 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 slammed his drink down on the table, the sound sharp, startling. Then he stormed out of the party without a word.
---
By the end of the night, the crowd had thinned. Maxie found me, her eyes darting between me 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 me, 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 home was quiet at first, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows. Then Zion chuckled.
"Do you remember when you made me skip class to buy you meat 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 warmed, the nostalgia wrapping around me like a blanket. For a moment, 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 apartment, I hesitated. "Do you… want to come in? Just for a drink?"
He gave me 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 me there tonight. Normally, I'd rather stay in with a book or some music."
My chest ached at how genuine he sounded. I nodded, trying not to show the flicker of disappointment. "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 time in a long time, the ache inside me felt lighter.
Until my phone buzzed again.
A new message. From an unknown number.
My laughter died instantly as I clicked it open.
"I've given you more than enough time to fix your mess. 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 me.
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?