Sloane stared at her ceiling, blanket twisted around her legs from an hour of tossing and turning. Sleep wasn’t happening. Not after what went down in the theater room. Not with the lingering sensation of Lukas’s lips still ghosting across hers.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered, pressing her palms against her closed eyes until colors bloomed behind her eyelids.

What had she been thinking? Nine years of carefully maintaining boundaries, nine years of treating him like the annoying housemate he was, and she’d thrown it all away because—what? Because he suddenly had an Aspect? Because he’d looked at her with those amber eyes that seemed so much more intense lately?

No. If she was being honest with herself—which she rarely was about Lukas—this had been building for months. Years, maybe.

Sloane rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, resisting the urge to scream into it. The worst part wasn’t even kissing him. The worst part was how much she’d wanted it, how her body had responded instantly when their lips connected. How she’d practically climbed him like a tree without a second thought.

And then her mother walked in.

Her mother.

Diane Fitzgerald, with her perfect composure and knowing eyes, catching her daughter straddling a boy like some desperate, horny teenager.

Which was exactly what she was, but still.

Sloane groaned and flipped onto her back again. She’d never be able to look her mother in the eye again. Diane hadn’t even seemed angry, just... amused? Disappointed? It was hard to tell with her sometimes.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Sloane snatched it up, heart racing when she saw Lukas’s name.

\[You still awake?\]

Her thumbs hovered over the screen. Should she respond? Pretend she was asleep? Tell him to get lost?

\[Unfortunately. Can’t turn my brain off.\]

The reply came instantly.

\[Same. Today was... a lot.\]

Sloane snorted. Talk about an understatement.

\[Mom walked in on us making out and you showed off your brand new Aspect. "A lot" doesn’t begin to cover it.\]

She paused, then typed again before he could respond.

\[Also we kissed. That happened.\]

She watched the three dots appear and disappear twice before his reply finally came through.

\[Do you regret it?\]

The question hung in the air between them, transmitted through pixels but carrying the weight of nine years of history. Sloane bit her lip as she considered how to answer.

Did she regret it? Part of her screamed yes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Lukas was supposed to be her sidekick when she became a top Hero. He was supposed to run her agency, handle her PR, make sure she had everything she needed to focus on rising through the ranks. That was the plan.

But another part of her, the part that had been watching him change over the past week, wanted more.

\[I don’t know. Do you?\]

This time his response came quickly.

\[Not for a second.\]

Her stomach flipped, heat rushing to her face. She pressed her thighs together, suddenly aware of the low throb of desire that hadn’t fully faded since the theater.

\[You’ve been different lately. Since we started training.\]

She sent it before she could overthink it. Something had changed in him. The Lukas she’d known for nine years—quiet, withdrawn, perpetually retreating to his room—wouldn’t have flipped her onto her back and pinned her wrists. He wouldn’t have looked at her with that hunger in his eyes.

\[Maybe I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself.\]

She frowned at the response. Was that it? Had the training really made such a difference? Or was it his Aspect manifesting that gave him this new confidence?

\[Guess manifestation suits you. You’re not the same person.\]

The reply took longer this time.

\[Is that a bad thing?\]

Sloane stared at the words, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She thought about the old Lukas, how he’d shut down whenever she tried to engage with him. How he’d watch Heroes on TV with that sad, wistful expression. How he’d flinch when people mentioned his parents.

Then she thought about the new Lukas. The one who kept getting back up when she knocked him down. The one who’d kissed her like he’d been waiting years to do it.

\[No. I like this version better.\]

She hit send and immediately felt her face flush hotter. Too honest. Way too honest.

His response made her heart race.

\[Good. Because this version really likes kissing you.\]

"Oh god," Sloane whispered, throwing her phone down beside her and covering her face with her hands.

This wasn’t happening. She wasn’t getting turned on by text messages from Lukas freaking Belmont. The boy who’d seen her with braces and acne. The boy who’d lived down the hall for nine years. The boy who was absolutely not supposed to be part of this aspect of her life.

Her phone buzzed again. She peeked through her fingers at the screen.

\[Too much?\]

She picked up the phone, hesitating before typing her response.

\[No. Just... new territory.\]

\[For me too.\]

Sloane rolled onto her side, clutching her phone like a lifeline.

\[What are we doing, Lukas?\]

The question encompassed everything—the kiss, the texts, the registration tomorrow, whatever was happening between them that had her unable to sleep at nearly one in the morning.

\[I don’t know. But I know I want to find out.\]

She closed her eyes, a full-body shiver running through her. When had Lukas gotten smooth? When had he started saying things that made her insides twist with want?

\[We’re going to the IHL office tomorrow. You sure you’re ready for that?\]

A safer topic. Professional. Not about how she couldn’t stop thinking about the way his body felt under hers.

\[As ready as I’ll ever be. Your mom’s going to help fast-track it, apparently.\]

Sloane winced, remembering the awkward conversation after their kiss was interrupted.

\[Sorry about her walking in. That was mortifying.\]

\[Could have been worse. At least we were still dressed.\]