Yn pov
Fallon burst into the bathroom, dragging me in behind her like she was about to confess a murder. Instead, she groaned, "I just got my period."
I blinked. "Seriously, Fallon?"
She nodded miserably, clutching her stomach like the world was ending. I sighed, digging through my purse. "You never carry anything I tell you to. What if I wasn't here?"
"But you are," she said, giving me a sheepish smile as I handed her a pad.
She disappeared into a stall, and I leaned against the sink, waiting. Ten minutes later, she came out looking a little less like a disaster. She adjusted her hair and glanced at her phone.
"My brother's coming to pick me up," she said casually. "I'm staying with him tonight."
I nodded, fixing my lip gloss in the mirror. "Okay, just text me when you get there."
Right then, her phone rang. Fallon answered with a grin, "We're coming," and then looped her arm through mine as we stepped out of the bathroom and made our way to the entrance.
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I stopped dead in my tracks.
Standing there, dressed in all black, was Jungkook.
Leaning against his bike like it was a throne. Hair messy, rings glinting under the streetlights, and that same unreadable gaze fixed directly on me.
My breath caught.
I knew Fallon came from a mafia family but this? This?
I never knew that Jungkook, the man who'd had his hands all over me that night, the one who haunted my every thought since then, was her brother.
Fallon didn't even seem fazed.
I looked at her, wide-eyed. "Is he your brother?"
She gave a single nod, like it was the most casual thing in the world.
Jungkook pushed off his bike, walking up with a smirk playing on his lips, clearly enjoying the way my entire brain had just short-circuited.
Without saying a word, he grabbed Fallon's hand like he owned time itself and turned to leave.
"Wait," I said quickly, stepping forward. Fallon glanced back. "Take care of yourself, okay? Come back soon."
She smiled, giving me a quick nod before Jungkook's eyes landed on mine again.
I didn't look away.
Neither did he.
There was something dangerous in the way he stared like he knew too much, like he remembered everything. And I hated that a small part of me hoped he did.
I stepped back into the club, weaving through the thinning crowd to look for Miles. I wanted to say goodbye, maybe steal one more moment. But he was gone.
Not by the bar. Not with Kevin. Just..... vanished.
Before I could even sigh, James appeared out of nowhere like a storm in glitter and cologne. "There you are!" he grinned, grabbing my wrist.
"James--what--?"
"Come dance with me," he said, already pulling me toward the floor.
"I was just about to leave--"
"Nope," he cut me off. "I need to make a girl jealous. She's watching. Be my decoy. Please?"
I groaned, but it was James. Loud, ridiculous James with his mischievous eyes and zero boundaries. I gave in.
The music was loud, the lights a blur, and soon we were dancing--his moves exaggerated, mine hesitant until I started laughing. We chatted in between songs, mostly nonsense, a little gossip, and just enough fun to make me forget about my sore feet and complicated thoughts.
By the time I finally stepped out of the club, it was forty minutes past when I intended to leave.
It was late. Way too late for someone like me to be out alone in heels and a bodycon dress.
James noticed the hesitation on my face and, without a word, unzipped his hoodie and handed it to me. "You look like a lost duck. Take this. Safe walk."
I muttered a thank you, tugged it on, and started walking.
The dorm wasn't that far. Twenty-five, maybe twenty minutes if I didn't stop.
I just wanted to make it back, throw these heels into a dark corner, take a shower, and collapse into bed.
The streets were mostly empty, the air cooler now, soft wind biting against my legs. My footsteps echoed down the sidewalk.
Five minutes into the walk, I heard it.
The low, familiar purr of an engine.
I glanced over my shoulder.
The same bike.
I couldn't see the rider clearly, but I didn't need to.
Definitely Miles.
I paused on the corner, letting the streetlight cast a pool of soft gold around me. My heart pounded with nerves and something else I didn't want to name.
Maybe it was time.
Maybe I should just ask him.
Ask him to give me a ride home.
I hadn't even realized until now--I never asked Miles why he sent me to that club that night. The earrings, the favor, the vague excuses. And here I was again, entangled in something I didn't understand.
Tonight, though, he was different.
He was alone.
No Kevin. No random guys from his classes. Just him and the black bike, parked silently beneath the streetlight like a ghost had left it there.
Honestly, if it weren't for the total silence of the neighborhood, I might not have noticed him at all. The engine barely made a sound--so well hidden, so deliberate. He was really stalking like a pro. Almost too well.
I took a breath and stepped off the sidewalk, walking over slowly. My heels clicked against the pavement as I approached him.
"Miles?" I said, trying to sound casual. "Can you give me a ride back to the dorm?"
No answer.
He just sat there, helmet on, full leather jacket zipped up--definitely not what he was wearing inside the club. He looked taller like this. Broader. And something about the way he sat... too still.
He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stared.
For two whole minutes, he just watched me.
My stomach coiled in unease, but I stayed put. He finally got off the bike, slow and controlled, and pulled an extra helmet from the back compartment. Without a word, he handed it to me.
I hesitated.
But I took it.
Strapped it on.
Climbed onto the back of the bike.
His hand reached for the ignition, and then--
"Hold on tight."
My breath caught.
That voice.
That wasn't Miles.
It was lower. Rougher. Familiar in a way that made the hairs on my neck rise.
It was Him.
What the hell is going on?
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