Ethan's raw question—Why do I feel this way?—had hung between them like a live wire, and Maya realized that impossible feelings meeting undeniable chemistry could cost both of them everything.
Maya couldn't stop replaying the rooftop encounter, couldn't shake the memory that followed her through classes and meals and the endless hours when sleep refused to come. The precision of their soccer session, the way they'd moved together like they shared the same nervous system. The moment when Ethan had stepped close enough that she could count his heartbeats, when his hand had almost reached her face before pulling back with visible effort.
The almost-kiss that burned more than if his lips had actually touched mine.
And his whispered confession afterward, raw with confusion and wanting: Why do I feel this way?
