CROSS-CHECKED (VSOO)

11

Taehyung

Last night should've been simple.

It always was.

I'm good at keeping things clean—emotionally clean. I learned a long time ago that feelings just make a mess out of everything. Girls, hockey, my future—none of it works if I let myself get tangled. So I've got rules.

Don't promise anything.
Don't stay after.
Don't remember too much.

By morning, the girl's name should be the only thing I know about her—and even that fades.

But Jisoo... she's not fading.

And it's pissing me off.

I'm leaning against my locker now, half-listening to Sean and Josh argue about whether we need to change our defensive lineup. My eyes are on them, but my head's somewhere else—flashing back to the way she looked last night in my sheets. Hair spread like spilled ink across my pillow. Eyes half-lidded but locked on me like I was the only person in her universe.

I remember the sound she made when I bit her lip. Low. Breathless. The kind of sound that makes you grip the sheets and lose your mind. I can still hear it in my head if I close my eyes.

Fuck.

I've been with girls who were objectively hotter. Girls with legs for days, girls who've been on billboards, girls who already knew how to play the game. And I liked that—it made it easy. But Jisoo? She's dangerous for a whole different reason.

She doesn't try.
She doesn't need to.

She's the kind of gorgeous you notice too late, and by the time you do, you're already in trouble. I used to think she was "just another face in the crowd." Now I know that was the biggest lie I've ever told myself. She's not another face—she's the face.

And the worst part? I'd barely noticed her before. We've been on the same campus for over a year, and it took a stupid dare and one kiss to turn my world sideways.

I run a hand through my hair, pretending to check my phone so the guys don't see me scanning the hallway for her. Pathetic. I don't scan for anyone.

Then I see her.

She's walking down the hall with Alisha, head tilted, lips moving fast like she's mid-rant. Her hair's loose today, catching the light every time she moves. She's in that fitted cream sweater and a short plaid skirt—nothing flashy, but it's enough to make my chest tighten.

She doesn't see me yet, and that's when I realize something's off. I'm not used to waiting for someone's eyes to land on me. I'm used to girls noticing me instantly, like they can feel me looking at them. But Jisoo? She's taking her time.

When her gaze does meet mine, it's like someone hit the brakes on the entire hallway.

There's a flash—quick, almost hidden—like maybe she wasn't ready to see me either. She tries to mask it, but I've been watching people my whole life, and I can read her better than she thinks. There's a pull there.

It hits me that she's probably telling herself last night didn't mean anything. And that makes me want to laugh, because if she thinks she can just walk away like I'm no one, she's out of her mind.

But then again... isn't that what I do to everyone else?

I should be relieved. This is perfect. Another one-night stand, another name I don't have to remember after a few weeks. I could forget her the same way I've forgotten every other girl—fill my time with games, practice, parties, and whoever's dumb enough to think they can "change me."

Except I don't want to forget her.

That's the part I hate admitting, even to myself.

Because when I picture last night, I don't just see the obvious stuff. I remember the way her breathing slowed when I kissed the inside of her wrist. I remember how she froze for half a second when I whispered her name like no one ever had before.

And I remember thinking—just for a second—that if she told me to stop, I might actually listen.

I've never had that thought before.

The guys keep talking, laughing about some freshman who missed a slap shot so bad it hit the glass. I'm not laughing. My eyes keep drifting back to Jisoo, who's standing by her locker now, pretending to listen to Alisha but glancing my way when she thinks I'm not looking.

She thinks she's subtle. She's not.

Our eyes lock again, and for the first time in a long time, I feel nervous. My throat goes dry, and I look away before I do something stupid—like cross the hallway and back her up against those lockers until she admits she wants me again.

Sean elbows me lightly, smirking. "You gonna tell me what's up with you, man? You've been spaced out all morning."

I shake my head, forcing a grin. "Just tired."

But I'm lying.

I'm not tired. I'm restless.
Restless because I don't know what this is.
Restless because I can't stop wanting her.
Restless because Jisoo Kim—the girl I barely noticed a week ago—might be the one thing I can't walk away from.

And that scares the hell out of me.