The Knock on the Window

Part 5: The Tension Breaks

The week after our last encounter felt like an eternity. Every time I left the house, I was half-expecting to see him standing somewhere, watching me, waiting for me to give in. My mind was a constant swirl of thoughts about him—what he wanted, why he kept pursuing me, and whether I was actually starting to want him too.

But no matter how hard I tried to shake it off, I couldn't get him out of my head. The way he looked at me with that devilish grin, how he made me feel like I was the only one in the room, even when I was trying to avoid him. And there was that pull—something deeper than simple attraction. It was like the universe kept nudging me toward him, forcing me to acknowledge something I wasn't sure I was ready for.

It all came to a head one Saturday afternoon when Chloe and I went to the mall. We were shopping for new outfits—nothing too fancy, just some basics for school—but as we were walking past the food court, I saw him.

He was with a couple of friends, but this time he wasn't just casually hanging out. His eyes immediately found mine across the crowded space, and my stomach flipped in that familiar, heart-pounding way. I didn't know why he did it, but it was as if he'd been waiting for me, knowing I'd eventually show up.

Chloe didn't notice at first, her eyes focused on a sale rack as I slowed down, frozen in place.

"Chloe," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "He's here. In the food court."

Chloe glanced up, following my gaze. Her eyes widened when she saw who I was looking at. "Isn't that him? The guy you're always—"

"Shh," I cut her off, my cheeks flushing.

He hadn't taken his eyes off me. I could feel his gaze like heat against my skin, and it made my breath catch in my throat. His smirk was there again, that knowing, cocky grin. He was playing some game, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to be part of it—or if I was already too deep in.

"I'm gonna grab a drink," Chloe said suddenly, as if sensing the shift in the air. "I'll meet you by the bathrooms, okay?"

I nodded, still unable to tear my eyes away from him. My heart was racing now, and it wasn't just nerves. It was something else. Something hotter. Something more dangerous.

I tried to act like nothing was happening. I continued walking casually, pretending I didn't notice him standing there, waiting for me to do something. But then I heard it—the low, teasing tone that I had come to dread (and secretly enjoy).

"Not running away today, are you?" His voice reached me across the mall, and I could feel the words sink into my skin.

I paused. My pulse spiked. Did he really just say that?

"Stop following me," I muttered under my breath, turning around as I walked toward the bathrooms.

I needed a moment. I needed to breathe. I couldn't think straight, not with him so close. But as I walked into the bathroom, the sound of footsteps behind me sent a chill down my spine.

The door opened just as I was about to take a step toward the sinks, and I turned to see him leaning against the frame, his expression unreadable.

"Thought you might need some space," he said, his voice lower now, a little more serious. "But you look like you need something else."

Before I could even process what was happening, he stepped forward, closing the distance between us with that same confident stride. My breath hitched, my body frozen in place.

"You're not supposed to be in here," I whispered, but even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice.

"Are you really going to act like you don't want this?" he replied, stepping closer, his fingers brushing mine. The contact sent a shock through me. "I know you feel it. You've been avoiding me for days, but you can't lie to yourself."

His gaze softened for a moment, but there was a heat in his eyes that made me want to pull away and pull him closer at the same time. My body felt like it was betraying me—every inch of me wanted him, wanted this moment to happen.

Before I could even think, he reached out and cupped my face with his hand. The touch was warm, possessive, but gentle. His thumb brushed across my lower lip, and my heart skipped a beat.

"You want this as much as I do," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

I should've pushed him away. I should've told him to stop. But I couldn't.

I leaned into him, tilting my head just enough for him to close the space. His lips crashed into mine, hungry and urgent. My heart was thundering in my chest as his hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer, pressing me into him. The kiss was everything I'd been trying to ignore—hot, desperate, and laced with all the tension we'd built up over the past few weeks.

It was messy and a little rough, but in the best way. I could feel his need in the way he kissed me, the way his hands gripped me like I was something he'd been wanting for too long. I could taste the sweetness of his breath and the electricity that surged between us.

My hands were shaking as I gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. Every nerve in my body was alive, every thought clouded by the rush of adrenaline. It felt like the world outside didn't exist, just the two of us in this small, confined space, trapped in this moment.

We pulled apart just as quickly as it had started, both of us breathless. His forehead rested against mine, and we stood there for a moment, just breathing.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," he said, his voice rough, almost regretful. "I didn't want to push you, but damn, it's hard to ignore this."

I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. It wasn't just the kiss—it was everything that led up to it, all the tension, the way he made me feel like I was both lost and found at the same time.

I had no idea where this was going, but for the first time, I didn't feel the need to run. Instead, I let myself feel everything—the heat, the desire, the fear, and the exhilaration of it all. Whatever this was, it was real.

And I wasn't ready to let it go.