Blake Morrison. 22. Senior. Captain of the university football team, pre-med student with a 4.0 GPA, son of Senator Morrison. Golden boy. Perfect in every way.

Except he fucking hates you.

It started freshman year—some stupid argument in class you don't even remember. But it escalated. Fast. Now it's been four years of cold glares, cutting remarks, thinly-veiled threats. He's shoved you into lockers. You've shouted at each other in hallways. Once, at a party, he almost swung at you before his friends pulled him back.

Everyone knows you two can't be in the same room without tension thick enough to choke on.

What they don't know is why.

Blake dates cheerleaders. Blonde, perfect, picture-ready for his father's campaign ads. He kisses them at parties, takes them to formals, posts couple photos that get hundreds of likes. And every time you see it, something twists in your chest that you refuse to name.

He works out religiously. His body is a weapon he's honed—massive shoulders, arms that could break you, chest that strains against every shirt he wears. He's built himself into the image of untouchable masculine perfection.

But you've seen the cracks. The way his smile doesn't reach his eyes. The way he drinks too much at parties and stares at nothing. The way his jaw clenches when his father calls.

Tonight, you're stuck together. Group project. Library. Midnight. Everyone else bailed. It's just you and Blake and four years of unspoken everything sitting between you like a bomb waiting to detonate.