The next day, I arrived at my usual spot by the bench near the basketball court. Liam was late, as always. Not that I was bored, Kia was good company, even though he was quieter than usual. Ethan, of course, was obliviously flirting with him, throwing playful jabs and laughing at his own jokes. Kia, on the other hand, was doing his best to stay composed, but his flushed cheeks betrayed him. A secret crush. He didn't want Ethan to know, though—it was obvious in the way he avoided eye contact whenever Ethan leaned too close.
Just as Ethan's antics started to draw a smile from me, a familiar voice called out in the distance. Liam. He came sprinting into view, huffing and puffing, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. My heart skipped, and my mind betrayed me by replaying yesterday's kiss.
I tried to focus on anything else—anything other than how my cheeks burned as I glanced at him. But I couldn't look away.
When he finally reached us, Liam flashed me a grin so wide it made my chest flutter. He plopped down beside me, far too close for my nerves to handle, and turned to look at me. Not just at me—through me, like he could see something hidden inside.
I averted my gaze, pretending to focus on Kia and Ethan.
"You okay?" Liam asked softly, his voice pulling me back.
"I…" My voice faltered. I couldn't stop thinking about what he said yesterday—that he could hear people's thoughts too. And now, sitting next to him, I couldn't hear his again. It was unsettling, but at the same time, it made him feel... safe.
"Still stuck on yesterday, huh?" he teased, leaning in slightly.
I glared at him, trying to muster some indignation. "Maybe."
His smile widened mischievously. "You know," he started, his voice low enough that only I could hear, "I really want to kiss you again."
My face burned so hot it was a miracle I didn't combust on the spot. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle whatever undignified sound might escape.
Liam, of course, found my reaction hilarious. He laughed—this deep, infectious laugh that only made me blush harder. When he finally caught his breath, he reached out and gently patted my head.
"You're so cute when you're flustered," he said, his tone softer now, almost fond.
I buried my face in my hands. "I can't even look at you right now," I mumbled.
"I can't stop looking at you, baby."
I froze. "B-baby?" I stammered, peeking at him through my fingers.
He smirked, leaning back casually. "Why? You don't like it?"
Before I could form a coherent response—because no, my brain had completely short-circuited—the teacher arrived, calling us all to line up for class.
Liam's smirk lingered as he stood, hands casually tucked in his pockets. "Guess we'll talk later, baby," he teased, winking before walking off.
I was left sitting there, my cheeks hotter than the sun, wondering how one person could be so effortlessly infuriating and endearing at the same time.