Chapter 25 CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 25
KNOX
I couldn’t remember a damn thing the professor said.
All I could remember was her.
The taste of cherry gloss on my tongue. The way she gasped when I kissed her. The soft, stunned sound she made when I pulled away.
It was burned into me. Like a brand I didn’t ask for but couldn’t get rid of.
“Knox,” someone whispered beside me.
I didn’t look. I couldn’t. If I turned my head, I’d probably start imagining Yael sitting there, lips parted, eyes wide.
God. I was going insane.
“Knox,” the voice came again, louder this time. A hand tapped my shoulder.
I blinked, snapping out of it to see Nate — one of the debate team guys — staring at me with a confused frown.
“Dude, what did Professor Alan just say?” he whispered.
I stared at him blankly. “What?”
“The last thing he said,” Nate hissed. “About the economic frameworks? You’re the one who actually pays attention.”
I dragged a hand over my face. “Not today.”
“What do you mean not today?” Nate leaned closer. “You’ve been zoned out since class started. Are you okay?”
I could feel the corner of my mouth twitch. “Define okay.”
He frowned. “You look like someone hit you with a brick.”
“Feels like it.”
“Late night?”
“Something like that.”
Nate sighed and went back to his notes. “Man, I don’t get paid enough for this.”
“You don’t get paid at all.”
He grinned faintly. “Exactly my point.”
The professor’s voice droned on at the front of the lecture hall, words blurring together like static. I tried to focus — really, I did — but every damn second, my brain betrayed me.
Yael’s face. Her mouth. Her breathless whisper.
Knox… we can’t—
Except we did.
And I didn’t regret a single second.
I should’ve. I knew that. She wasn’t just anyone. She was Yael, my co-lead, the girl who argued with me like her life depended on it. The girl who made my pulse skip just by glaring at me.
But when she looked up at me with those eyes last night… reason ceased to exist.
“Mr. Knox?”
The sound of my name jolted me back again.
Professor Alan was staring directly at me, one brow raised. “Care to contribute something to this discussion?”
I froze. “Uh—”
Nate choked beside me, trying not to laugh.
The professor crossed his arms. “I assume, as student committee head, you’ve been following our analysis on social reform trends?”
“Of course,” I lied instantly.
“And what are your thoughts?”
“My thoughts?” I repeated, buying time.
“Yes, Knox. Your thoughts. We’d all love to hear them.”
The entire class turned to look at me. Even Yael — sitting two rows ahead — shifted slightly, and I could see the back of her head. My brain went blank.
“Uh,” I began, “well… I think, uh, when you look at the structural systems in place—”
A few students snickered.
I cleared my throat and forced confidence into my voice. “—the challenge isn’t about reform itself but sustaining the changes long-term. Which requires more than just policy shifts; it needs… uh… civic adaptation.”
There was a pause.
Professor Alan tilted his head. “Civic adaptation,” he repeated. “Interesting phrase.”
I forced a grin. “I read a lot.”
He nodded slowly, though I could tell he wasn’t fully buying it. “Alright, continue your reading, then. Page 206, chapter eight.”
As soon as he turned away, Nate burst out laughing beside me.
“Civic adaptation?” he whispered. “What does that even mean?”
“Shut up.”
“You totally blanked.”
“I said shut up.”
He kept laughing quietly until I elbowed him.
When the class finally ended, I shoved my notes into my bag, more aggressively than necessary.
Nate caught up to me at the door. “You good, man? You seem… distracted.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? You’re never this quiet unless you’re plotting someone’s death or a massive event.”
“Maybe both.”
He gave me a wary look. “Should I be worried?”
“Probably.”
He sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I ignored him, walking out into the hallway. The crowd buzzed around me — students talking, laughing, existing like normal human beings. Meanwhile, I was one impulsive memory away from losing my mind.
And of course, the universe hated me enough to make her appear at the end of the corridor.
Yael.
She was standing by the vending machine, fingers tapping on her phone, completely oblivious. Her hair was tied up messily, a few strands falling loose around her face.
And I swear my pulse stuttered.
Nate followed my gaze. “Ohhh.”
I glared. “Oh what?”
“Nothing,” he said too quickly. “Except the fact that you’re staring like a lovesick—”
I smacked the back of his head. “Finish that sentence and I’ll bury you.”
He rubbed his head, grinning. “Touchy.”
“Go away.”
“Fine. I’ll see you at practice.”
As soon as he left, I exhaled slowly, forcing my heartbeat back to something resembling normal.
She hadn’t seen me yet. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe I could just—
“Knox,” her voice cut through the hallway.
Or maybe not.
I turned, schooling my expression into something calm. “Yael.”
She walked up to me, crossing her arms. “You ignored my text.”
“What text?”
She narrowed her eyes. “The one about today’s committee updates.”
“Oh. Right.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I was busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Thinking.”
“About what?”
“You.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
I smiled faintly. “You asked.”
She groaned and muttered something under her breath. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Knox, I’m serious. You can’t just—”
“I know,” I interrupted quietly. “About last night.”
Her cheeks flushed instantly. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah.” I leaned closer, my voice dropping. “But you didn’t stop me, did you?”
She froze, eyes flickering to my mouth before she caught herself. “It was a mistake.”
“Lie better.”
“Knox.”
I smiled, small and dangerous. “Relax, Princess. I’m not going to kiss you again. Yet.”
Her breath hitched, and that single sound nearly undid me.
She stepped back, muttering, “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re beautiful,” I murmured before I could stop myself.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“Nothing.” I turned away before I could say something worse. “See you at practice.”
I walked off, pretending not to feel her eyes on me.
But every step I took, I could still feel her lips against mine.
Every word s
he said looped in my head like a curse.
And when I reached the end of the hallway, I realized I hadn’t heard a single thing Professor Alan said all morning — but every damn second with Yael?
Burned into memory.