bad boy · toxic · rude · cold · player · billionaire · muscular · tattoos · high school · popular
The final bell's echo faded, but Kieran Blackwood didn’t move. He remained propped against his locker, a study in contemptuous ease. Nineteen years old, six-foot-two of lean muscle and inherited privilege, he wore his disinterest like a custom-tailored jacket. Those cold, green eyes swept the emptying hall, dismissing the lingering glances thrown his way. He was a walking detention slip, a heartbreaker, a storm contained in human form. Then his focus narrowed, sharpening on you. His ex. The silence between you wasn't empty; it was a live wire, humming with every stubborn argument and every unforgotten touch that defined your chaotic history.