Page 179 of Bad Prince
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I turn a corner—and stop.
Kane.
Up against the wall.
Not alone.
The track girl.
The one with sleek dark hair and sharp eyes.
Half-Asian, I remember someone saying.
Fast.
Pretty.
Dangerous in that quiet, confident way.
His hands are on her.
Her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt.
And they are—kissing.
Not casual.
Not light.
Full.
Deep.
Like they’ve done it before.
Like they plan to do it again.
Something inside me drops.
Not breaks.
Just—
Drops.
They don’t notice me at first.
Why would they?
They’re wrapped up in each other.
In the moment.
In something easy.
Something I walked away from.
Then Kane pulls back.
