Chapter 6 PRACTICE KISSES AND OTHER DISASTERS
Lena should have known peace would not last.
Westbridge University had an almost supernatural ability to sense emotional instability and immediately monetize it.
She was halfway through her morning journalism lecture when her phone buzzed. Then buzzed again. Then a third time.
By the fourth notification, even Professor Aldridge stopped mid-sentence to glare in her direction.
Lena muttered a quick apology and flipped her phone over.
A message from Rachel Monroe.
Mandatory filming session. Studio B. 4 p.m.
A second message followed immediately.
Today’s focus: Physical chemistry development.
Lena frowned because that sounded suspicious.
Then came the third.
Yes, this includes kiss rehearsal.
Her entire body froze. The room blurred slightly around the edges.
No! Absolutely not.
Across campus, Kai got the same message during practice.
Noah was standing beside him when he read it.
The grin that spread across Noah’s face was immediate and deeply unhelpful.
“Oh, this is incredible.”
Kai looked up slowly.
Noah practically vibrated with excitement.
“Kiss rehearsal?”
Kai shoved the phone into his hoodie pocket.
“No.”
Noah blinked.
“…No what?”
“No.”
“That ks not how contracts work.”
Kai picked up his stick.
“Then they can suspend me.”
Noah’s grin faded because that got his attention.
“Hey.”
Kai did not respond.
Noah stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“You can’t lose the team over this.”
Kai’s jaw tightened.
He knew that and that was the problem because every option felt like losing.
By 3:57 p.m., Lena was pacing outside Studio B.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Maya had offered emotional support.
Her exact words had been:
“If you faint, at least do it dramatically so it trends.”
Not helpful.
At exactly 4 p.m., the studio door opened and Kai stepped out of the elevator.
Their eyes met instantly.
Lena noticed two things right away:
First, he looked annoyed enough to commit mild property damage.
Second, he looked nervous but the nervousness was subtle and barely there.
A stiffness in his shoulders, a tension in his jaw but it was there and somehow that made her own panic worse.
Because if Kai Ryder was uneasy about this, then maybe this really was as catastrophic as it felt.
Rachel Monroe greeted them with entirely too much enthusiasm.
“Perfect! Our favorite couple.”
“We are not…” Lena began.
“Save it for the cameras,” Rachel interrupted smoothly.
Kai crossed his arms.
“What exactly is this?”
Rachel smiled.
“The audience engagement metrics show your tension performs exceptionally well.”
Lena hated every word in that sentence.
“So,” Rachel continued, “we are helping that tension evolve into romantic payoff.”
Kai’s expression darkened.
“What does that mean?”
Rachel gestured toward the center of the studio.
There was a set.
Soft lighting, a fake park bench, flower arrangements and two camera operators are already waiting.
Lena’s stomach dropped.
“This is absurd.”
Rachel clasped her hands together.
“This is television.”
The first hour was humiliating.
They were coached through “romantic body language.”
Sit closer. Lean in naturally. Hold eye contact. Smile more softly.
Every instruction made Lena want to disappear into another dimension.
Kai somehow looked even less thrilled.
At one point, the intimacy coach physically adjusted his shoulder angle. Kai stared at him until the man visibly reconsidered all his life choices.
Noah, who had somehow convinced security to let him observe, was practically dying with laughter in the back corner.
Maya, standing beside him, looked equally entertained.
“This is painful,” she whispered.
Noah grinned.
“This is art.”
Then came the announcement.
Rachel clapped once.
“Time for the kiss rehearsal.”
Silence.
Pure, immediate silence.
Lena stopped breathing. Kai went completely still.
The intimacy coach stepped forward.
“It does not have to be perfect. We are just building comfort and natural rhythm.”
Natural rhythm?
Lena wanted to file a legal complaint against that phrase.
Rachel beamed.
“Positions, please.”
Neither of them moved.
Rachel’s smile thinned.
“Now.”
Contract. Scholarship. Team.
The words hit both of them at once.
Slowly, reluctantly, they stepped toward each other.
They stopped inches apart.
Too close, far too close.
Lena became painfully aware of everything.
The faint scent of cold air and cedar clinging to Kai’s hoodie, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the fact that he was taller than she had realized at this distance, and his eyes.
She had never been this close to them before.
They were not just dark, there were flecks of gray hidden there. Sharp and storm-like.
He looked just as aware. His shoulders were rigid. Hands clenched at his sides. Jaw tight.
“Relax,” the intimacy coach called.
Neither of them did.
“On three,” Rachel said.
“One.”
Lena’s pulse thundered.
“Two.”
Kai’s breathing changed slightly.
Then, “Stop.”
The word came from Kai.
Low, sharp and immediate.
Everything froze.
Rachel frowned.
“What?”
Kai stepped back so abruptly it startled everyone.
His face had changed. All the color drained from it. His breathing had become uneven an too fast.
Lena frowned.
“Kai?”
He did not answer. His eyes were not focused on the room anymore. They were fixed somewhere else. Somewhere far away.
And suddenly, Lena understood.
This was not anger. This was not irritation. This was panic.
He turned and walked out fast, not running but close to.
The studio erupted instantly.
Rachel looked furious.
Noah was already moving but Lena was faster.
Without thinking, she followed him kut the studio, down the hallway, through the emergency exit door that led outside.
She found him behind the building bent slightly forward. Hands braced against the concrete wall. Breathing hard.
The sound hit her chest like a physical thing. Raw, shaking and wrong.For a moment, she did not know what to do.
Then she remembered Ivy.
Her little sister’s anxiety spirals.The breathing exercises. The grounding techniques.
So Lena stepped closer carefully.
“Kai.”
No response. She softened her voice.
“Kai, look at me.”
Nothing.
His hands were trembling now and that scared her because this was Kai Ryder.
The boy who looked untouchable, unbreakable and he was unraveling right in front of her.
She reached for him slowly, not grabbing, just resting her hand lightly against his forearm.
His whole body tensed.
Then stilled.
“Kai,” she said again, steady and quiet.
“Look at me.”
This time, he did. And the sheer panic in his eyes stole her breath.
“Breathe with me.”
He did not move.
“Just try.”
She inhaled slowly, held it and exhaled again and again.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, his breathing shifted slightly. It was still uneven but trying, so she kept going.
Matching the rhythm. Guiding him through it. Until little by little, the storm eased.
Several minutes later, he finally straightened.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence was not awkward. It was fragile like one wrong word might shatter it.
Kai looked exhausted and suddenly younger.
Not twenty-one, not campus hockey captain, just a boy carrying something too heavy for too long.
Lena studied him quietly.
Then asked the question she probably shouldn’t have.
“What happened?”
His jaw tightened.
For a second, she thought he would not answer.
Then he said quietly:
“I do not like being trapped.”
The answer was too simple, too practiced.
It was a half-truth and she knew it but she did not push. Instead, she nodded.
“That is enough for now.”
His eyes lifted to hers. Surprise flickered there like he had not expected mercy.
They stood there in the fading evening light.
Neither moving, nor quite sure what this moment meant.
Then Kai spoke. His voice was rough.
“Why did you follow me?”
Lena answered honestly.
“I did not think you should be alone.”
Something shifted in his expression, small and almost invisible but real.
And when he looked at her after that, really looked, there was no irritation, no resentment, no performance just quiet vulnerability.
The kind that changes everything.
Back inside the studio, Rachel was furious.
But for once, neither of them cared.
Because somewhere between panic and breath, between breaking and being steadied, something had changed.
The distance between them no longer felt impossible and that was far more dangerous than either of them wanted to admit.
Late
r that night, Noah found Kai sitting silently in his room.
He studied him for a long moment.
Then asked:
“So… what happened?”
Kai stared at the floor. He thought of Lena’s hand on his arm. Her voice ground him. The way she had not asked for more than he could give.
Then he said quietly: “She stayed.”
Noah frowned.
“And?”
Kai looked up.
His expression was unreadable.
“That is the problem.”
