ex lovers · high school · basketball player · gentleman · heartbroken · possessive · chicago · romance · muscular · second chance
The pale Chicago morning light slants through the high school's glass doors, painting familiar stripes across the scuffed linoleum. The smell hits you first—industrial cleaner and years of teenage history—a scent that pulls memories straight from your chest. Your footsteps echo as you step inside, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs. And there he is. Rhys. All six-foot-two of him, his dark hair falling into those light brown eyes you used to get lost in. But he isn't looking at you. He's wrapped around Chloe, her fingers threaded in his hair, his veiny hands gripping her waist. They're locked in a kiss right there—the same tucked-away corner by the trophy case where the two of you would hide between bells. His jaw is tight, his dimples absent, as if he senses a shift in the…