Chapter 2 002

Chapter 2

CAROLINE

My heart was still trying to climb out of my throat when Harper dragged me back through the courtyard, chattering about the library and the quad like the world hadn’t tilted on its axis ten seconds earlier.

“—and the Alpha Sig party next weekend is going to be insane. We’re going.”

I forced a smile, nodding along while my pulse still raced. “Sounds fun.”

We’d just reached the front of Maple Hall when the heavy doors burst open and Ethan Walker jogged out, hockey stick slung over one shoulder, cap backwards.

“George! You still here or did you already ditch us for the first day?” He grinned, spotting the mirror box. “Need help with that?”

“No, she’s got it,” Harper said quickly. “But thanks, Ethan. Caroline, you good? I’ll be right back with my stuff.”

She disappeared upstairs before I could answer. I stood there clutching my keycard, heart hammering, when Damon’s voice cut through the noise.

“Caroline.”

I turned. He was already halfway across the courtyard, keys dangling from one finger, the same faded BWU hoodie from earlier still on.

“Ethan mentioned the mirror. Figured I’d make sure it got up okay.” He shrugged, but there was something careful in his tone. “You sure you don’t want me to call one of the other guys? Noah’s around here somewhere.”

“I’m fine,” I said, a little too fast. “Really. It’s not heavy.”

He studied me for a second, steel-blue eyes unreadable. Then he nodded once. “Cool. I’ll just carry it up for you. One hand. No big deal.”

He fell into step beside me, and the silence wasn’t quite as thick as it had been five minutes ago. I focused on the stairs, on the faint scent of cedarwood and pine that still clung to his hoodie, on anything except the way my skin remembered the heat of his palm from earlier.

Inside, the elevator was crowded with freshmen. Damon stepped back, giving me space, but I felt his eyes on me every time I glanced up. When we reached the fourth floor he set the box down in our doorway without a word, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Lock it at night,” he said quietly. “Move-in week’s a zoo. Some of these guys are… enthusiastic.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Damon.” I kept my voice light. “I’ve got it.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead he just gave a small nod, turned, and walked away down the hall.

I didn’t let myself breathe until the door clicked shut behind him.

Harper was already upstairs, dragging boxes in from the truck, humming under her breath. She glanced over when I stepped inside, blue eyes sparkling.

“Mirror’s in? Awesome. I’m gonna grab my laptop bag before it’s gone. You want me to bring down the rest of the bins? You look like you’re about to melt.”

“I’m good,” I said, forcing a smile as I perched on the edge of my bed. The room was still half-empty, but it already felt like ours. “Go. I’ll finish the rest of my stuff.”

She waved and disappeared down the stairs again. I stayed put, staring at the window, the campus stretching out below like it was waving hello and waving goodbye at the same time.

My phone buzzed.

Dad: Safe and sound? Nora’s been asking about your FaceTime already. Don’t forget to eat.

I typed back a quick Yes! Love you and set the phone aside. The ache in my chest wasn’t new, but it felt sharper today. Seeing him again—really seeing him—had cracked something open I thought had finally sealed shut.

I was eighteen now. I was supposed to be over it. I was supposed to be scrubbing Damon George out of my system.

But every time I closed my eyes I saw those steel-blue eyes locking on mine across the courtyard. I heard the way my name had rolled off his tongue earlier—soft, almost like it surprised him. And I felt the ghost of his hand on my shoulder from last night, the brief, warm press that had sent electricity straight through me.

He’s just being a good brother, I told myself. To Harper. To me. That’s all.

The door banged open downstairs and Harper’s voice echoed up. “Caroline! You coming? I need my best friend to help me pick out posters before the store closes!”

I stood up, grabbed my hoodie, and followed her back into the hallway. The elevator ride down was quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. When we stepped out into the courtyard again, the sun had shifted lower, painting everything gold.

Harper linked her arm through mine. “Okay, new rule. We’re going to the quad. That’s where all the freshmen parties happen. We need to stake our claim.”

I laughed despite myself. “I don’t stake claims. I hide in my room and read psych books.”

“Too late. You’re stuck with me now. And I’m not letting you mope on move-in day.” She pulled me toward the stone path that led to the quad, voice bright and unstoppable. “Besides, if we get to know the campus, we’ll know exactly where to avoid all the hockey guys when we need to. Team spirit.”

I rolled my eyes, but I followed her anyway. The quad was alive—students laughing, music drifting from somewhere, a couple of guys in BWU jerseys tossing a frisbee. Harper pointed out the library, the dining hall, the Greek houses, all with wild hand gestures and details only she seemed to remember from her first year.

We were halfway through when a voice cut through the noise.

“Yo, George! Move your ass! Coach is already in the locker room!”

Harper turned, grinned, and waved. “Ethan! Tell my brother the mirror’s upstairs and he doesn’t have to play moving guy for us anymore.”

Ethan laughed and jogged over, stick in one hand. “He’s already doing it. Guy’s been carrying your stuff around like you’re made of glass.”

I felt the heat creep up my neck. “He didn’t have to—”

“He did,” Harper said, cutting me off with a teasing smile. “Big brother privileges. Now come on, we’re going to the quad. I need coffee before my brain melts.”

We turned toward the open grass, and that was when I saw him.

Damon was standing near the edge of the courtyard, hands in his hoodie pockets, watching the crowd like he owned the place. His eyes flicked to us the second we rounded the corner.

Harper didn’t notice. She was already pointing at a building across the way. “That stone one is the library—avoid it at all costs unless you want a mental breakdown.”

I forced my gaze away from the man who’d carried my mirror without being asked. “I hear you.”

We stopped at the edge of the quad, and Harper launched into her campus tour like nothing in the world could distract her. I tried to focus on her stories, on the way she gestured, on anything that wasn’t the steel-blue eyes that kept finding mine every few seconds.

At one point she nudged me with her elbow. “Ground rules time. We made a million stupid rules back when we were fourteen. Which one is still sacred?”

I forced a laugh. “Uh… honestly, Harper, we made up a million stupid rules back then. Which one?”

“The most important one, duh!” She nudged my shoulder again. “No falling for each other’s brothers. Ever. Strictly forbidden. Total bro-code violation.”

The words landed like a stone in still water.

My chest went tight, suffocatingly small. I felt Damon’s gaze lock onto the side of my face—heavy and unreadable.

“Oh.” I laughed, the sound hollow. “Right. That rule. Obviously. Totally forbidden. Gross.”

“Exactly!” Harper giggled, completely oblivious. “I mean, can you imagine? If either of us caught feelings for family it would make Sunday dinners so fucking weird. Total nightmare fuel.”

“Yeah,” I choked out, staring at a crack in the concrete. “Total nightmare.”

I didn’t dare look at Damon. I was terrified that if I met those icy blue eyes right now, he’d see the devastation written all over my face—that I’d broken that rule every single day for the past four years.

But I could feel his eyes on me. And it wasn’t the distant, dismissive look of an older brother’s friend anymore.

He’d started looking at me differently. Not like Harper’s little friend. Like he was seeing me for the first time.

Damon didn’t say a word. He didn’t laugh, didn’t agree, didn’t even offer a sarcastic comment. He just stood there, face a blank, unreadable mask.

The tense silence broke when another voice called from the path leading toward the arena.

“Yo, George! Move your ass! Coach is already in the locker room!”

Damon sighed, ran a hand through his messy hair, and knocked his cap askew. He looked at Harper, then finally at me.

“I gotta go.” His voice lost its hard edge. He reached out, his large, warm hand briefly resting on my shoulder—the heat of his touch zapping through my shirt like an electric current. “Take care of yourself, Caroline. If you need anything—anything at all—you call me. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks, Damon,” I whispered, staring at his chest.

He dropped his hand, and the sudden loss of warmth left a cold ache behind. “See you later, Harper.”

“Bye! Go smash some heads on the ice!” Harper waved casually.

We watched him walk away, his broad-shouldered frame eating up the distance toward Blackwood Arena in long strides.

“Come on, let’s get that coffee,” Harper said, tugging my arm. “I’m literally dying.”

I turned to follow, but something pulled at my chest—an invisible magnetic force I couldn’t fight.

Right before he reached the heavy double doors of the arena, Damon stopped and glanced back. Just once.

Across the crowded courtyard, through the sea of laughing students and moving boxes, his steel-blue eyes locked onto mine.

It lasted only a fraction of a second—intense and unreadable—before he turned and disappeared inside.

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat as I forced my feet to move forward next to my best friend.

This is exactly why I need to move on, I t

old myself fiercely, blinking back the sudden, stupid sting of tear

s.

He’s off-limits.

He’s her brother.

And he’ll only ever see me as a kid.