Chapter 7 ELevated heartbeats.

Milie's POV

The laughter faded, but the lightness stayed. For a few minutes, I had forgotten about the pain of losing the championship. 

Not because it disappeared, but because something else had taken over my head–Alan.

I found my eyes drifting to the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at his eyes visible in it. 

"Why was he doing all this? He’d stayed. Skipped his class. Ditched that girl—who, by the way, looked like she walked straight out of a magazine."

"For whom? Me? The same girl who had told him to get lost. The same girl who had ignored him five minutes before her match. I saw his disheartened face, yet I stayed indifferent."

But he...showed up, helped, and stayed. Now he was driving us back, grabbing food, stuffing the car with snacks, bringing me every kind of chocolate just because he didn't know which one I'd like. 

I opened the bag resting in my lap and pulled out a chocolate, unwrapping it slowly.

The moment he had pressed it into my hand, the way he had tapped my head—something had shifted. My heartbeat had gone stupid. My lips wanted to smile, but I didn't let them. I wasn't that girl.

"Milie…" Sammy's voice came low beside me, almost a whisper. "You should just go on that date with him."

"What the—?!" I snapped, louder than I meant to.

The car jerked slightly. Alan slowed down immediately, glancing back, concern sharp in his eyes. "Hey—what happened? You okay?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah—yeah, I'm fine. Just—"

"Yeah, Milie," Sammy cut in, way too amused. "What happened? Why are you yelling like that?"

I shot him a look that promised violence.

"I think kids are fighting again," Alan said under his breath, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the road.

"I'm not going anywhere, you understand," I muttered.

Sammy leaned closer. "Sorry, but it's part of the challenge you lost, remember, darling?" 

"I will kill you, Sammy." I hissed. He giggled with pressed lips, and I turned away before throwing a fake smile. 

"A Jenga game with him? Fine."

"But a date?"

"No. Absolutely not. Not when I could still feel the warmth of his hand. Not when I could still hear his voice."

I leaned back, groaning aloud. I wasn't supposed to, but it happened anyway.

"What’s going on in that head of yours?" Alan's voice cut in, softer this time.

"Nothing… Can you just… drive?" I muttered. "And ignore me for a bit."

"Excuse me? I'd appreciate it if you stopped treating me like your driver."

I turned my head sharply. "We didn’t ask you to come."

"Yeah, right," he nodded casually. "I invited myself."

"Wow," he added, glancing at me through the mirror, amused. "Rude Milie is back."

"Is it a general problem or just with me?" I shot back.

"Just with you."

"Oh," he smiled. "Then I’ll take that as a compliment. Guess, I’m special!"

"Ahhh… God, you're annoying." 

"Only with you." He and Sammy laughed, tapping the steering wheel lightly, completely unbothered.

"Good one, Dude." 

I shoved his shoulder from behind. "You’re seriously annoying."

"And you’re still coming for that Jenga gamedate."

"I never promised."

Sammy perked up instantly. "Wait—gamedate? When that happened?" 

"Nothing," I snapped, clamping my hand over his mouth before he could continue. 

"Focus on the road," I added quickly. "I’m not dying today."

"Relax," Alan said. "We’re not dying before our game."

"Wow," I muttered. "So the game is more important than your life?"

He didn't hesitate. "Spending time with you is."

Sammy's jaw dropped, and I froze. My eyes lifted, met his in the mirror. He was smiling. 

What did that even mean? Was he serious? Or was this just… him?

I looked away quickly, my pulse loud in my ears. "What the hell is wrong with me…" 

The car slowed as we turned into my street. And suddenly, I didn't want it to end.

"Sammy," I said quickly, "Quickly, get me out. I'll walk."

He glanced at me, confused, then understanding flickered. "Yeah. Sure." Relief lasted exactly two seconds.

"Alan, please help her out," he added casually. "I'll get the door." 

"Got it," Alan said.

I froze. "Traitor." 

Before I could protest, Alan was already out of the car, opening the door. 

I groaned softly under my breath, but then there he was, standing, extending his hand. 

My fingers hesitated for a second too long before I placed them in his.

The moment he touched me—My heart stumbled. 

"Shut up, please, shut up," I said to my heart as if it could listen. And before I could think, he lifted me into his arms again.

This time, I didn't fight it. My arms moved on their own, wrapping around his neck.

Neither of us spoke. But I could feel it—that quiet, steady warmth. We had barely reached the steps when the front door flew open. 

Mom stepped out—Her eyes landed on me in Alan's arms. She paused. One eyebrow lifted slightly.

Then, very deliberately, she turned her expression into something neutral.

"Well," she said calmly, glancing between us, "this is unexpected."

I shut my eyes. Kill me now.

"Put me down," I muttered under my breath.

Alan didn't move. "She's hurt. I'll get her upstairs."

Mom stepped aside, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah… that seems like the smarter plan." 

I was ignored by every single one of them. As we moved past her, Mom added casually—

"Try not to drop her. I'd hate to fill out hospital paperwork today."

I groaned. "Mom."

"What?" she said innocently. "Just being practical."

Sammy snorted behind us. "Traitor."

Alan carried me up like it was nothing. Like I weighed nothing. Like it was natural.

He placed me gently on the bed too carefully. 

"Thank you so much," my Mom said warmly. "For taking care of her."

"No problem," he replied, easy as ever.

I rolled my eyes, mumbling in my head. "Careful? He's the reason half of this chaos exists."

He glanced at me briefly. Smirking sexily, as if he heard it.

"I should head back," he said after a moment. "Got class."

Sammy fist-bumped him. "Thanks, man."

"Anytime."

I watched him as he turned to leave. Didn't even realise I was staring, not until he disappeared from view.

And suddenly the room felt quieter.

"Milie," Sammy said, dropping into the chair beside me, way too pleased.

I didn't look at him. "What?"

He leaned back, grinning. "That guy?" He paused. "He's definitely not interested in just playing Jenga."

My heart skipped. I kept my face neutral. "Shut up."

Sammy just laughed.

And for some reason, that scared me more than anything else today.