CHAPTER 188

**ZION**

I tap my fingers on the desk, the steady rhythm almost matching the beating of my heart. 

My gaze drifts over to Winter, and I notice how still she is, her eyes glued to the pages of her notebook. 

She hasn’t said much since I sat down beside her, not a single word. 

The silence feels... heavy. Like there's something unsaid between us, something she’s holding back.

But what catches me off guard is the way she looks at me every now and then. 

It’s not a full-on stare, but just these quick glances, like she’s trying to figure something out. It’s... weird. Not like the way she normally looks at me.

It's almost like there's something she wants to say but is holding back. Or maybe it’s just me projecting, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more going on in her head than she’s letting on.

I watch her pen moving across the page of her notebook, focused and absorbed. 

She’s always been like this—so methodical, so organized. If I had to guess, her schoolwork is colour-coded, alphabetized, and maybe even arranged by importance. 

Nerdy? Yeah, but it’s part of what makes her… well, her. I can’t help but smile a little at the thought.

I want to say something—anything, just to break the silence. But I stay quiet.

What good would it do?

She’s probably still pissed at me. 

Scratch that—she’s definitely pissed. 

And trying to force a conversation now, to make some kind of awkward attempt at normalcy, would only dig me deeper into the hole I’ve already buried myself in.

I can’t blame her for feeling this way. But at least she hasn’t outright killed me yet.

Still, that doesn’t mean I’m safe once class ends.

It’s better to just keep my mouth shut.

Again, I catch her flicking her eyes in my direction, like she’s about to say something. 

I brace myself for the scolding, the words I know are coming—hell, I deserve them. 

But instead, she just shakes her head, and her gaze drops back down to the papers in front of her.

I can’t help but sneak a glance at what she’s working on. 

It’s her Business Administration assignment. 

I hold back the words that are itching to escape because I know any word out of my mouth could make everything worse, hoping that maybe—just maybe—if I give her space, she’ll come around.

At least she’s not telling me to get lost. 

That’s something, right? 

A small victory amid everything. 

Suddenly a light bulb flickers on in my brain.

Fuck. 

Maybe I could help her with her assignment.

The idea hits me like a jolt of electricity—simple, yet so obvious I feel like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. 

What better way to show her that I’m not the same screwed-up guy with anger issues. 

Maybe, just maybe, this could be my shot at fixing things between us.

Yeah, fucking brilliant idea. 

Why not?

What could go wrong?

I can’t help but think, I’ll do an all-nighter if I have to, but that assignment will get done. 

No half-assed excuses, no distractions. 

I’ll make sure Winter gets the grades she deserves—even if I have to drag the guys along for the ride.

We'd gather every point, every fact she needed s to make sure she nailed it. The thought of surprising her with a perfectly done assignment feels... good. 

My something, not Damien’s. 

She doesn’t need him. 

She needs me.

Okay, I messed up with the whole revenge thing. I know that now. But I’m reformed, I swear. 

I just need to show her she matters. 

Yeah, tonight we’re doing her assignment.

I imagine telling the guys—Clark, Ro, and Harry. I already know how they'll react.

Clark will sulk. I can already see it—one of those fake ‘too cool for this’ expressions, even though we both know he’s just too lazy. 

“Man, I never do my own fucking assignments on time,” he’d grumble, rolling his eyes. 

“What makes you think I’m doing Winter’s?”

And Ro… that guy spends more time pretending his notebook is some sort of philosophical warzone than actually doing any work. 

“Ugh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding Do you want us to work on Winter’s assignment? You and your damn mission to win her back, fine, I get that—but staying up all night doing an assignment that isn’t even ours? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

As for Harry… well, he’ll be the one to act like he’s all in like he’s definitely down to help. 

I’d bet my last dollar he’ll whine and act like it’s some grand imposition. 

“Do I really have to do her whole project, Z? Why can’t we just... give her some advice and call it a day?”

Whatever. 

They'll just gonna have to suck it up. 

I picture it clearly—her face lighting up when she sees everything we’ve done. All the work, all the planning, every little detail just for her.

She’ll be ecstatic, right?

Maybe she’ll even jump up, her eyes wide, her lips parting in surprise.

And if I’m lucky... maybe she’ll throw her arms around me, hugging me like I’m the only person in the world.

Hell, maybe there’ll be a kiss on the cheek... Just a soft, innocent brush of her lips.

Without even realizing it, my hand instinctively moves to my face, as though I can still feel that imaginary kiss. My skin burns with the sudden heat, my heart pounding harder than it should.

Wait. No.

I'm blushing!

No fucking way.

Zion Royal doesn’t blush. 

Not now, not ever.

But damn it, there I am, doing exactly that. 

Blushing. 

Like some damn idiot.

I shake my head, hoping the damn heat in my cheeks fades before anyone notices—not that I’m fooling myself.

I glance back at Winter, and before I can stop it, a small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

Fuck.

The thought of her seeing me in a different light—maybe even starting to see me as something more than just a friend—it’s enough to drive me forward.

Maybe this is my chance to make up for all the shit I’ve pulled in the past. Maybe this is my shot at finally getting it right.

Yeah, I’m doing this. 

Even if the boys give me fucking hell. 

They’ll come around. 

They always do.

Maybe then she’ll smile at me the way she used to. 

Then....

Maybe—just maybe—I can then work up the courage to ask her out for coffee. 

A simple question, nothing too crazy, just a normal 

“Hey, want to grab coffee?” But would she say yes? I want to believe she would. God, I hope she would.

But as I stare at her, the words feel stuck in my throat. Maybe I’ll figure it out. 

Maybe.

My gaze drifts from her to the rest of the classroom. 

Two rows down, I spot Cindy, sitting like she’s on some kind of stage. 

Her eyes lock with mine, and she gives me a flirtatious smile, the kind of smile that says she’s used to getting exactly what she wants. 

She bats her eyelashes at me, leaning back just enough to let her curves take the spotlight, and I can practically hear the ‘come hither’ in her body language.

It’s as if she thinks I still want her.

I roll my eyes, my jaw tightening with frustration. 

What’s it going to take for her to get it through her head? 

I don’t want her. 

I only want one girl—and she’s sitting right next to me, head bent over her notebook, oblivious to the circus Cindy’s putting on for me.

But then Cindy’s gaze shifts from me to Winter, and I catch the subtle shift in her expression. 

A flicker of disgust crosses her face, eyes narrowing, before her attention snaps back to me, a sickly sweet smile playing on her lips. 

Her hand moves to her neck, fingers trailing down in that predictable way, slowly and deliberately, as if she’s trying to draw me in, trying to make me notice.

She licks her lips slowly, fingers trailing over her neck and down her chest in exaggerated motions, all while her eyes burn into mine, daring me to react.

It’s laughable. Does she think she can just turn me on by being... that?

Delusional.

I glance back at Winter, her eyes wide now, darting between me and Cindy like she’s watching some silent battle unfold in real time. I swear I see the flicker of… something. 

Maybe confusion. 

Maybe frustration? 

I don’t know. 

Cindy doesn’t seem to care. 

She blows me a kiss with deliberate slowness, the gesture so over the top that it makes me want to puke. 

What fuck fuck is she up to?

My eyes flick back to Winter again, and I can see the tension in her shoulders, her discomfort radiating in waves.

I want to tell her it’s not like that, that I’m not interested in Cindy and never was. But the words don’t come. 

They’re stuck, jammed up with everything else I haven’t said, and suddenly it feels impossible to open my mouth and make it right.

I feel the weight of Winter’s gaze on me. She’s watching me, and I’m just hoping she doesn’t misinterpret everything. 

Cindy’s got her own agenda, but Winter? 

She means everything to me, and I’ll be damned if she ever thinks I’m still caught up in the past with someone like Cindy.

I glance back at Winter, and my breath catches in my throat. She's already looking at me, her eyes narrowed, lips curled slightly in disgust.

God, she looks cute when she’s pissed.

Hold up... is she...?

A sudden realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

She’s jealous.

Fuck, I’m sure of it.

The way her gaze flickers between me and Cindy, the tension in her posture, the way her fingers grip the edge of her notebook like she’s trying to hold herself together—it’s all there. She's trying so hard to pretend she doesn’t care, but I can see it in the way her eyes snap back to me, almost daring me to notice.

It’s not just disgusting. It's... jealousy.

Fuck.