Ezekiel's POV
That expression haunts me like a ghost I can't shake.
Ximena.
The way shock painted her features when she heard me laughing. How tears gathered in her eyes before she spun around and left me standing there like the complete bastard I am.
Maybe that's exactly what I am.
At least when it comes to her.
The scene replays in my mind on an endless loop, each repetition feeling like a fresh wound.
There I was at the foosball table, wearing that stupid grin while Kane and his crew made jokes about what it would be like to kiss her.
The memory makes my stomach turn.
I despise that version of myself.
But what choice did I have? Anton was right there, watching. Half the football team had their eyes on me, waiting to see how I'd react.
Was I supposed to stand up for her? Tell them that kissing Ximena Garcia wouldn't be some twisted dare, that it might actually mean something?
Not a chance.
If those words ever left my mouth, I'd become their next target.
