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Chapter Two: Heat Between the Walls
Blick didn't expect to make a friend on day one—especially not someone like Zayen.
Zayen was sharp, confident, and dressed like he belonged in a fashion ad. He was everything Blick wasn't, yet strangely, they clicked. While others puffed their chests or posed for attention, Zayen had a quiet swagger. He noticed things. And he noticed Blick.
"New here?" Zayen asked, sliding beside him on the campus steps.
"Yeah. Blick," he replied.
"Zayen. You look like you've seen a ghost."
Blick smirked. "Something like that."
They bonded quickly—two minds, different worlds, but something between them just synced. Zayen had a girlfriend too—Alina. Gorgeous, wild, and way out of most guys' leagues.
That evening, the two headed toward the canteen, laughter echoing between them. Zayen ran ahead to check if Alina had arrived. Blick followed slowly, then paused. The hallway to the bathrooms was dim, oddly quiet.
Then… a sound.
A soft moan. Low, breathy, urgent.
Blick's chest tightened.
The ladies' washroom door was slightly ajar.
Another sound. Wet kisses. Whispered names.
He stepped back. His curiosity wrestled with his sense. He shouldn't—but he did.
He peeked.
Inside, Zayen had Alina against the wall, her hands pinned above her head with his belt. Her mouth parted in a moan, her dress hiked up just enough to see the black lace tight against her skin. Zayen kissed her neck, his fingers trailing along the inside of her thigh in slow, deliberate strokes.
"Right here?" she whispered breathlessly.
"Why not?" he murmured, voice low and teasing. "You like being caught, don't you?"
She bit her lip, her body arching into him.
Blick stepped back fast, heart pounding, blood rushing. He shouldn't have seen that. It felt wrong—but it lit something deep inside him.
He knocked hard on the door.
Inside, a flurry of movement. Zayen's voice: "Shit."
A minute later, they walked out—flushed, fixing clothes, laughing like it was nothing.
"You alright?" Zayen asked, noticing Blick's flushed face.
"Yeah. Just... thirsty."
They grabbed cold drinks and tea. Blick held his paper cup, staring into the tea's surface.
"Oops," he whispered under his breath, the memory of Kiara flashing in his mind—the sting of hot tea, her icy voice, her scent.
Then, as if summoned by thought, she walked in.
Kiara.
But she wasn't alone.
Three girls trailed behind her—gorgeous, bold, and unapologetically sexy. Skin-tight dresses, curves on display, cleavage framed perfectly by deep V necklines and sheer fabrics. The middle lines of their breasts peeked through, like deliberate invitations.
Heads turned. Conversations paused. Even Alina looked.
Kiara met Blick's eyes.
This time, she smiled.
But it wasn't warm.
It was a dare.
...