"Why do I want to kiss you?" Mateo murmured, the question hanging in the air like smoke from a fire that was about to consume everything.
Maya's throat went completely dry. Time had suspended itself somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, leaving her frozen in a moment that could destroy her entire carefully constructed world. She could feel Mateo's breath warm against her cheek, could see the confusion and hunger warring in his dark eyes, could sense him leaning closer—
"What the hell's going on here?"
Ethan's voice sliced through the library's hushed atmosphere like a blade through silk, sharp and commanding and absolutely furious.
Maya's head snapped up, relief flooding through her system so fast it left her dizzy. Ethan stood three feet away, backpack slung over one shoulder, blue-gray eyes blazing with something that looked dangerously close to territorial rage.
Thank God. Thank God thank God thank God.
Mateo leaned back in his chair with practiced ease, that infuriating smirk sliding across his face like armor. "Relax, Captain. We're just studying."
His tone was too casual, too smooth, like he'd been rehearsing the line. It made Maya's skin crawl because she could hear the lie underneath it, could see how effortlessly he shifted from intimate confession to public performance.
He's done this before. This isn't his first time getting caught in a compromising position.
Ethan's eyes shifted to Maya, pinning her in place with laser intensity. The look demanded answers, demanded explanations for why she was alone in a dark corner with Mateo Herrera looking like he'd been about to—
Maya's chest locked tight.
Say something. Anything. Make this normal.
She forced a shaky laugh, shoving her calculus notebook into her bag with movements that felt too jerky, too panicked. "Yeah. Just history. Mateo's hopeless with dates."
The lie tasted like copper pennies, but it was better than the truth. Better than trying to explain that Mateo had been confessing feelings she couldn't return for reasons no one could know.
Mateo chuckled like they'd been sharing study notes instead of intimate moments, like Ethan's interruption was perfectly normal instead of a rescue Maya desperately needed. "Guilty as charged. Revolutionary War keeps blending together."
But Ethan didn't laugh. Didn't even smile. He just stood there staring, jaw flexing with barely contained tension, his gaze flicking between them like he was trying to read a conversation written in a language he didn't quite understand.
He knows something was happening. He doesn't know what, but he knows.
The silence stretched until Maya felt like her lungs might collapse from the pressure. She couldn't stay here, couldn't handle another second of being examined and analyzed and questioned. Every moment she remained was another chance for someone to ask the right question or notice the wrong detail.
"I was leaving anyway," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and standing with movements that probably looked as desperate as they felt.
She moved fast, weaving between study tables with single-minded focus on the exit. Behind her, she could hear Ethan's voice drop to something low and dangerous, the kind of tone that carried threats wrapped in teammate protocol.
"Don't play games, Mateo."
Mateo's response was another laugh, but this one had edges that could cut. "Maybe I just like competition."
The words sent ice water flooding through Maya's veins. Because that wasn't about soccer or grades or any normal kind of competition. That was about her, about whatever dynamic Mateo thought existed between her and Ethan, about territorial claims being staked over someone who couldn't afford to be claimed by anyone.
He thinks Ethan and I—oh God, he thinks we're interested in each other.
Maya pushed through the library doors into the hallway, grateful for the sudden burst of fluorescent lighting and the normal sounds of students heading back to their dorms. The air felt cooler out here, easier to breathe, like she'd escaped from underwater.
But even as she walked quickly toward the stairwell that would take her to safety, she could feel eyes on her back. When she glanced over her shoulder, Ethan was standing in the library doorway, no longer looking angry.
Just suspicious. And curious.
Too curious.
His expression was the look of someone who'd walked into the middle of a story and was determined to figure out how it started. The kind of focused attention that asked uncomfortable questions and didn't accept deflections as answers.
Maya turned away and climbed the stairs two at a time, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just traded one problem for another. Mateo's romantic interest was dangerous enough, but Ethan's investigative curiosity might be worse.
Because team captains were used to getting answers. And Maya was running out of lies that sounded like truth.