Ella didn't sleep that night.
Her lips still felt like they were on fire. Not from just any kiss but from his.
Ryan Cortez wasn't just a popular playboy. He was a threat in designer sneakers, and her body still remembered every place he had touched her...
every whisper of heat, every inch of skin that had lit up under his hands.
It scared her.
Because now… she wanted more.
And wanting him was dangerous.
Especially since she still didn't know why he was chasing her so hard.
No one just flips from hating to kissing like that.
Unless—
No.
She shook the thought away.
****
-
Monday at school was tense. Ryan didn't speak to her. He didn't even look at her.
Not in class.
Not in the halls.
Not even when they passed each other by the vending machines.
Cold.
Distant.
Gone.
It messed with her head.
Had the kiss meant nothing?
Had she imagined it?
*****
By lunch, the whispers had started again.
"She thinks she's special."
"He'll get bored of her soon."
"She's just another win for Ryan."
Ella tried to ignore them—until she heard her name come from the senior boys' locker room.
She froze behind the half-open door.
Inside: laughter, mocking.
"I give her two weeks before she's begging."
"You kidding? Ryan already said he'd tap that before exam break."
Her blood ran cold.
Tap that.
Said he would.
Already.
Her chest tightened. The air felt thick.
Ryan had told them?
About her?
About the bet?
She backed away, heart pounding, throat tight.
And then—he stepped out of the room.
Ryan.
Fresh out of a shower, hair wet, towel around his neck.
And when he saw her standing there?
His face froze.
"…Ella—"
She slapped him.
Hard.
So hard, the crack echoed down the hall.
The entire locker hallway went dead silent.
He touched his cheek, stunned.
Her voice trembled with rage. "You bet on me?"
He opened his mouth, but she didn't let him speak.
"You kissed me… just so you could win some game?"
"It's not like that—"
"Don't lie to me, Ryan!"
His eyes flared with guilt. "I didn't mean for it to go that far. It started like that, yeah. But I—"
"But you what? Caught feelings?" She laughed bitterly. "You used me. Like I was just some trophy."
He stepped forward. "It's not like that anymore—"
She stepped back.
Tears filled her eyes—but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of him.
"You're disgusting," she whispered.
Then she turned.
And walked away.
---
That night, Ryan punched his bedroom wall.
He didn't stop until his knuckles bled.
He hated himself.
Because she was right.
He had used her.
At first.
But somewhere along the line, she became more than the bet.
She became everything.
And now?
He'd ruined it.