Chapter 147 Bad For My Heart

Chapter 147 Bad For My Heart

TESSA

My eyes dragged over the sharp lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles caught the bathroom blight/bb. /bbI /bcouldn’t help it. I stared at his body.

I told myself I was just appreciating, not lusting. Appreciating. Because how could a seventeen–byear/b–bold /blook like this?

It was my first time seeing something like this in real life. Not in books, not in passing nces bat /bbtraining /bgrounds from afar–this was here, in front of me, close enough that I could feel the faint heat bradiating /boff his skin.

My thoughts must’ve been far too loud, because his mouth curved into the smallest smirk. Then, bI /bheard him chuckle. The sound rolled through my chest, setting my nerves alight.

I snapped my gaze up to his face, eyes wide, my mouth opening like I could form an excuse, ba /breason for standing here like some kind of lovesick idiot. But before I could speak, he tilted his head slightly.

“Zaria spilled her drink on me,” he muttered.

That was when I noticed that we were quite close.

Every strand of light seemed to sharpen the way his eyes stayed on mine for just a second longer than necessary. It felt like my wolf wanted to climb out of my skin.

“Aren’t you going to move?” His voice was quiet, but it brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

My lips parted. “Sorry,” I muttered quickly, forcing my feet to shuffle sideways so he could passb. /b

Just like that, he moved past me, his shoulder brushing mine, close enough for the scent of his skin to invade my senses.

He didn’t look back.

I, however, couldn’t stop watching his retreating figure. When he turned the corner, I realized I’d been holding my breath.

I mmed the bathroom door shut harder than necessary, the sound echoing in the small space. My back pressed against it, my hand flying to my chest. My wolf was restless again, prowling under my skin, and I. was flushed—not the pale, tired face I’d been trying to hide all morning, but flushed like I’d been caught in the middle of something I shouldn’t want.

Oh, this was bad. This was bso/b, so bad.

I stumbled toward the sink, turning the faucet on and sshing my face with cool water. But the bcold /bdid nothing. The redness in my cheeks refused to fade, and my heart kept thundering.

One thing was painfully clear.

Rowan Wrenmoor was bad for my heart.

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Chapter 147 Bad For My Heart

Since then, bI /bsaw him often.

Cameron was still annoying, the others still looked at me weirdly, but I’d grown ustomed bto /bbit/bb. /bbIt /bbwas /blike walking around with a dull bruise–you stop flinching after a while, but it’s bstill /bthere, throbbing bunder /b

the skin.

Ena was the kindest to me, which made me feel guilty for even noticing her boyfriend’s bexistence/bb. /bbBut /bRowan was still bad for my heart, and no matter how many times I told myself to keep my head down, bI /bcouldn’t seem to shake him off.

Over the year, there were momentsb–/bsmall, harmless moments–that burrowed under my

skin.

Like the time he came by to help Ena move some things around her room. I was in the hallwayb, /bcrouched over a box of tangled extension cords, when his voice drifted over. He asked me bif /bbI /bbneeded /bbhelp/bb, /bcrouching down beside me. Our arms brushed, and my brain went nk except for the sound of bmy /bheartbeat. I mumbled that I was fine, and he gave this little smirk before standing and walking baway/b.

Or the time I came home from school, drenched in rain because Cameron “forgot” his umbre and took mine without consent. Rowan was sitting in the kitchen with Ena, both of themughing over some inside joke. He looked up first, his brows pulling together. “You’re soaked,” he said. Ena quickly tended to me, but I gently pushed her away. I went upstairs without answering.

And then there was the day I walked into the living room and froze. They were on the couch–Ena on hisp, their mouths pressed together, her fingers tangled in his hair. My stomach twisted, and I backed out quietly so they wouldn’t hear me. I told myself it was nothing. It was normal. I didn’t have a im on him. I shouldn’t care. But that night, Iy awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’d ever look at someone like that. Wondering if anyone would ever look at me that way.

Through all of it, Rowan was… attentive, in his own strange way. He always greeted me when he came over. He asked about my sses, even remembered small things I’d told him. Once, I dropped a stack of books on the stairs, and he was there in seconds, kneeling to gather them up.

“Careful,” he said, almost like he was talking to a child–but not in a demeaning way. More like he didn’t want me to get hurt.

The more it happened, the more I realized I was screwed.

I liked him.

Not in the innocent, harmless way you might like a celebrity you’ll never meet. This was real.

But I knew it would pass. That’s what I told myself, over and over again. One day, I’d meet my mate, and Rowan Wrenmoor would be nothing but a name in my past. A… fluke in my heart’s history.

Or so I thought.

The day of his 18th birthday came faster than I expected.

“Everything ready?” Myrna’s voice carried from the hallway.

bI /bstood in the corner, trying to stay out of the way, while she fussed over Zaria. “bYou /blook bbeautiful/b, sweetheart,” she cooed as she brushed Zaria’s brand–new dressb. /b

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“And you too, darling.” She straightened Cameron’s tie and kissed him on the cheek.

Then her gazended on me. For a second, I thought maybe she’d say something nice. But her bexpression /bshifted into that familiar scowl. She didn’t say a word and turned away.

The familiar burn rose in my chest. I looked down at my shoes, gripping my fists until my bnails /bbpressed /binto my palms. Cameron’s voice cut in, casual and sharp all at once.

“Why does she even need toe with us?”

The silence after that felt loud. I bit the inside of my cheek.

“Don’t mind her,” Zaria clicked her tongue. “Let’s just go.”

With that, they walked together like a perfect little family while I followed close behind.