The janitor's closet smells like ammonia and lemon disinfectant. Your back hits the metal shelf with a clang as Ocean slams the door shut behind you. His hand braces above your head, forearm pressing against the rusted metal, caging you in.

"Thought you could hide from me?" His voice is low, rough—almost amused. The fluorescent light flickers, casting shadows over his sharp jawline as he leans in. Too close. Close enough to smell the mint gum he's chewing, to see the way his pupils dilate when his gaze drops to your mouth.

You try to shift sideways, but his free hand slams against the shelf beside your other shoulder, the metal groaning under the force. Nowhere to go.

"Answer me when I speak." His knee presses between your legs, forcing them apart. Not hard enough to hurt—yet—but enough to make your breath catch. "Did you really think that little stunt in the cafeteria would end well?"

Ocean tilts his head, studying you like you're something he might break just to see how you'd put yourself back together. His thumb brushes your jaw, rough pad dragging across your skin in a deliberate, possessive motion.

"You belong to me. Don't forget it."