Chapter Two
Nora’s P.O.V
The end of the week was finally here. Graduation day.
We were in the auditorium, lined up in our caps and gowns, waiting for our names to be called. The hum of voices, the rustle of robes, the weight of it all—it finally felt real.
Nick walked over, Leo right beside him. Both in black gowns, both looking like they did not have a single care in the world.
Before I could say anything, Amelia leaned in close.
“So,” she said, tugging her cap straight, “did you ever decide what you’re doing after all this?”
I kept my eyes forward. “Not really.”
She bumped her shoulder into mine. “You don’t have to lie to me. You’ve been thinking about it.”
I had. Just not in ways I was ready to say aloud.
Behind her, I caught Leo watching me.
And for a second, I wondered if he ever felt like that too—like the world expected something from you, and you were not sure if you had it to give.
They called Nick’s name first. He walked across the stage like he owned it—easy smile, confident steps.
Then they called mine.
I took a breath and moved forward, the lights bright and hot, the sound of clapping echoing through the auditorium. My heart pounded as I crossed the stage, but my steps stayed steady.
At the other end, my parents were waiting. My mom had tears in her eyes. My dad pulled me into a hug so tight I could barely breathe.
“We’re so proud of you,” he said.
“You both did it,” my mom added, wrapping her arms around Nick and me at the same time.
And just like that, we weren’t high school students anymore.
We got back to the house not long after. The sun was still high, but the day already felt long.
I dropped my bag by the door, went straight to my room, and flopped onto the bed, cap and gown still half on.
A second later, Nick appeared in the doorway, arms crossed.
“So… you going tonight?”
I let out a small huff. “Yeah. Might as well have some fun.”
My phone buzzed. I grabbed it off the nightstand.
Amelia: You better be coming tonight, bitch.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Subtle as always.”
I texted her back: I will be there. Do not get too drunk without me.
Instantly, she sent back a string of emojis—fire, wine glasses, and a devil face.
I tossed the phone beside me and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to quiet the nerves starting to stir.
It was just a bonfire.
Just a party.
I peeled off the gown, let it fall in a heap on the floor, and stepped into the bathroom.
I turned the shower on, steam curling around the edges of the mirror. I didn’t wait. Clothes off, skin bare, I stepped under the spray. Hot. Too hot, but I did not turn it down.
Hands braced against the tile; I let my eyes fall shut.
And there he was.
Leo.
Not the version that stood beside Nick today, casual and unreadable. But the one I saw when he wasn’t looking. The way his jaw tensed when he was holding something in. The quiet flick of his eyes toward me like he was fighting it.
I tilted my head back, water dragging over my skin like fingers. His fingers.
God.
If he ever touched me like I wanted—really touched me—I would fall apart. No hesitation. No good girl boundaries.
My breath hitched. The heat wasn’t just the water anymore.
I imagined him behind me, breath at my neck, hands on my hips, voice low and rough in my ear saying my name like it meant something.
Nora.
My legs trembled. I hated how much I wanted it. How long I had been craving something I couldn’t ask for.
Something I was not supposed to want.
I pressed my forehead to the wall, chest rising and falling too fast.
“Nora! Leo will be here soon—do not make us wait!”
Nick’s voice slammed through my door like always, zero patience, all volume.
I sighed, dragging my hands through my wet hair. “I’m almost done!”
Silence. Footsteps retreating.
I finished rinsing, the last of the suds swirling down the drain, and shut off the water. The air outside the shower hit me like a whisper—cool, sharp. I stepped out, skin dripping, and grabbed a towel but did not bother wrapping it tight.
Crossing the room, I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused.
Damn.
I looked good. Strong arms, tight stomach, water gliding over every line I had earned from hours running, lifting, grinding through workouts no one ever saw.
But it was the ink that made me smile.
The secret.
Thin black lines that started just beneath my left breast, curling like smoke across my ribs, dipping low—dangerously low—along my side and ending at my hipbone.
I ran my fingers along it, slow.
Still healing, but perfect. Mine. No one knew. Not Nick, not Amelia. And definitely not Leo.
Yet.
The thought twisted something low in my stomach.
I could not wait to get more.
I dropped the towel.
I grabbed the black lace bra from the dresser, the one that hugged exactly right, delicate but bold. Slid it over damp skin, the lace catching slightly as it settled against me. Then the matching underwear—barely there, soft against my hips.
I smirked, pulled open the closet, and yanked out my favorite black tank top. Thin, tight, dipped low in the front. Threw it on without thinking.
Then the ripped short shorts. The kind that made guys stare and girl's whisper.
They slid up over my thighs, hugging every curve.
I ran a hand through my hair, still damp and wild. I let it fall messy around my shoulders.
One last look in the mirror.
I didn’t look sweet.
I looked like trouble.
I opened my door and nearly ran into Nick.
He was leaning against the wall like he had been waiting, arms crossed, smirking like the smug older twin he thought he was.
He looked me up and down, “I’m going to have to punch someone tonight, aren’t I?”
I smiled, slow and dangerous. “Nick, you know I can handle myself.”
He laughed, already turning. “Oh, I know, little sister.”
“Not little,” I snapped, following him into the hallway. “We are literally the same age. Twins, remember?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, but I was born three minutes before you. So… ha.”
And with that immature victory, he darted down the stairs before I could lunge at him.
Asshole.
I could have caught him. Would’ve, too, if I was not still barefoot and trying not to break my neck.
I had been boxing in the gym for years. Private trainer, real sessions. I knew how to fight, how to strike, how to drop a guy twice my size if it came down to it.
But no one knew.
Except Nick.