The Quarterbacks Kiss

The air in the diner was thick with the scent of cheap coffee and unspoken tension. I pressed against the bruise on my chest, a phantom ache blooming beneath my ribs, a constant reminder of the life I was trying to escape. My eyes, however, were fixed on the steaming mug before me, the rising wisps of vapor a meager distraction from the searing pain.

Maybe I shouldn't have come here. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten Luke involved. My thoughts spiraled, a frantic defense against the fear that gnawed at me—the fear that my father would find me, that the past would never truly release its grip.

Then, he appeared. A jolt, sharp and undeniable, ripped through me. Across the room, a tanned brunette with a smile that could bring empires to their knees, laughing with his friends. Dimples flashed. Biceps bulged. He was, without a doubt, the most attractive man I’d ever seen, radiating an aura of effortless charm and undeniable power. He looked like a player, the kind who left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

His grey eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto mine. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't look away. My body yearned to pull me towards him, yet I remained rooted to my seat, a strange magnetism holding me captive. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he continued to stare, a silent challenge in his gaze. Why was he so damn attractive?

Look away, Eve. He’s out of your league. I finally tore my gaze away, a hot blush creeping up my neck, certain I looked like a complete idiot. I forced my attention back to Lizzie, my brother's girlfriend, who had been talking animatedly for what felt like an eternity. The encounter, fleeting as it was, had left me breathless and unnerved.