It's interrupted by the door creaking open, forcing me forward. Nate fills the doorframe, his presence making the small space feel even smaller. The scent of his cologne wraps around me, making my head spin.

"Well, this is cozy," he says, leaning against the door as he closes it. His grin is pure mischief, but there's something softer in his eyes. "Why are you hiding in a broom closet?"

"I just needed a second," I mumble, crossing my arms. The air feels electric with him here, and I'm already regretting my ridiculous choice of hiding spot.

He tilts his head, those bold hazel eyes reading me like a book he's memorized.

"Are we playing hide-and-seek now?"

I hesitate, thoughts tumbling over each other, before blurting out, "Why didn't you tell me about Jackson?"

Nate frowns, confusion crossing his features. "Jackson? Who's—" Understanding dawns in his eyes.

"Ollie told me you… beat the shit out of him back when we were kids. Because he teased me about my bangs." The words sound absurd now that I'm saying them out loud. My cheeks burn as I realize how nonsensical I sound.

Nate's low chuckle fills the small space, warm and teasing.

"Wait, are you seriously mad because I beat up some kid for making fun of your bangs—what—ten years ago?"

"I'm not mad!" I throw my hands up, flustered. "I'm… I don't know what I am! It's frustrating and confusing… I feel everything all at once, and I don't know what to do about any of it!"

His grin widens into that infuriatingly charming smirk only he can pull off. He steps closer, eliminating what little space remained between us.

"If I kiss you right now, will it make things better or worse?" His tone walks the line between daring and tender, his eyes dancing with both amusement and something deeper.

My breath catches, my mind going blank. "I… I don't know."

"Well," he murmurs, leaning closer until I can feel his breath on my skin, "can I test the theory?"

The intensity in his gaze is devastating—raw and unguarded, like he's finally letting me see everything he's been holding back.

"All this time?" I whisper, the words barely audible.

"Yes, Leni. All this time," he says softly, the words carrying the weight of years. "All this time, it's been you and only you for me."

The space between us hums with tension, an invisible pull impossible to resist. His lips curve into another smirk as he adds, "You're real cute when you're flustered, you know."

"And you're infuriating when you think you're being charming," I retort, but my voice wavers despite my attempted glare.

I turn to step past him, but his hand catches my wrist, gently spinning me back. He leans in, his eyes darkening with an intensity that sends heat coursing through me.

"The last time we were in a closet together," he murmurs, voice rough, "it was our first kiss."

I blink, confused, then laugh.