Chapter 8 Jack

I've faced a lot of things in my life.

A screaming soccer coach. A final exam

I didn't study for. My little sister throwing a tantrum in the middle of a grocery store.

But nothing—and I mean nothing—is as exhausting as Lara when she wants something.

"Jack," she whines for the hundredth time, trailing behind me as I open my front door. "Please."

"No."

She follows me inside like a lost puppy. "Just one lesson."

"No."

"Half a lesson?"

I give her a flat look. "Lara, the answer is still no even if you break it into five-minute segments."

She huffs, dropping onto my couch like

she belongs here. Which, annoyingly, she kind of does. "You're being ridiculous."

"No, you're being ridiculous," I shoot back, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "You don't even like soccer."

She grins. "Yeah, but I like winning."

I shake my head. "That's not how it works."

She props her chin on her palm, batting

her lashes at me. "Oh, come on, Jack. You're, like, good at this. And I learn fast. You won't have to suffer for long."

I take a sip of water and give her a dry look. "Oh, great. I was worried about my suffering."

Lara scoffs. "You act like teaching me is the worst thing in the world."

"It is."

She gasps, clutching her chest like I just insulted her entire existence. "Wow. You wound me."

I ignore her dramatics and sink into the armchair, stretching out my legs. "Find someone else."

"No."

"Not my problem."

She groans, flopping back onto the couch. "You are my problem."

I smirk. "Welcome to reality."

Lara is still on my couch.

Still.

Like she lives here. I watch as she scrolls through her phone, curled up under one of my blankets like she's making herself at home.

Which, apparently, she is.

"Okay," I say, crossing my arms.

"You've made your point. Now get out."

"No," she says without even looking up.

I sigh. "Lara."

She blinks up at me, all fake innocence. "Jack."

I narrow my eyes. "You are not staying the night."

She smirks. "Pretty sure I am."

I scoff. "Your mom's gonna freak out."

"Nope," she says, popping the p. "Already told her I'm at your place."

I freeze. "You what?"

She grins. "She said, and I quote, 'Oh,

that's lovely, sweetheart! Tell Jack's mom I said hi.'"

I stare at her. "You're kidding."

She stretches like a cat, looking way

too pleased with herself. "Nope. I can stay here as long as I want."

I groan, dragging a hand down my face.

Of course our moms are cool with this. Of course Lara gets away with everything.

She leans back against the couch,looking obnoxiously smug. "So. What's for dinner?"

I shoot her a look. "You are pushing your luck."

She grins. "I live on pushing my luck."

I sigh, shaking my head."Unbelievable."

She hums. "You love it."

I don't respond to that.

Instead, I grab my keys. "Come on. I'm

getting takeout."

Lara perks up immediately, throwing off

the blanket. "Ooooh, yes. Let's get pizza."

I roll my eyes but don't argue. If pizza means she'll shut up for five minutes, I'll take it.

Thirty minutes later, we're back with a

large pizza, and Lara's sitting cross-legged on my bed, happily stuffing her face.

I stand by the door, arms crossed.

"You're eating in my room now?"

She shrugs. "You don't have a TV in the

living room."

I exhale sharply. "You are so spoiled."

She grins. "Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Still taking it as one."

I roll my eyes but grab a slice anyway.

If she's taking over my space, I might as well eat.

For a while, we eat in silence. It's…

weirdly nice. Calm.

Then—

"So," Lara says, wiping her hands on a napkin. "What are we watching?"

I blink. "Watching?"

She gestures at my laptop. "Movie night, obviously."

I snort. "Lara, this is not a sleepover."

She gasps. "Excuse me, but I distinctly remember you saying I could stay the night."

I groan. "I said fine because I had no choice."

She grins. "Same thing."

I shake my head. "You are impossible."

"And yet, here I am."

I sigh, already regretting all my life choices. "What movie?"

She beams. "Something romantic."

I nearly choke. "No."

She gasps dramatically. "Why not?"

"Because I don't hate myself," I deadpan.

Lara pouts. "Jack, you are no fun."

I smirk. "And yet, here you are."

She huffs but grabs the laptop, scrolling through movies. "Fine. No romance. But I am choosing."

I groan but let her. Fighting Lara is exhausting.

Eventually, she picks a random action

movie, and we settle in. Lara lies on my bed like it's hers, munching on chips, and I sit against the headboard, trying to process how this became my reality.And for some reason… I don't mind.

At some point, her eyes start drooping,

and before I know it, she's asleep.

Right next to me.

I stare at her. Unbelievable.

I should wake her up. I should make her sleep on the couch.

But I don't.

Instead, I sigh, shake my head, and—very carefully—pull the blanket over her.

Lara shifts slightly, mumbling something in her sleep.

And damn it—

I smile.

And then stopped.

What am I even doing?

Sunlight filters through the curtains, a little too bright for my liking. I blink awake,my body oddly warm, a weight pressing against my chest.

And that's when I realize.

Lara.

She's curled up against me, her head tucked just below my chin, one arm draped over my

stomach like she belongs there.

I freeze.

What. The.Hell.

For a solid ten seconds, I don't move. I don't even breathe. Because if I do, she might

wake up, and then she's going to—No. No, I am not dealing with this right now.

Slowly—very slowly—I shift, untangling myself from her without making a sound. She stirs for a second, frowning in her sleep, but then she turns over, hugging the pillow instead.

Crisis averted.

I slip out of bed, running a hand through my hair. What even happened last night? The last

thing I remember was her refusing to go home, saying something about how our

moms wouldn't care, and then talking my ear off until she eventually crashed.

And now, here we are.

I exhale, grabbing a piece of paper from my desk and scribbling down a note.

Training starts today. Run laps with the group after texting me.

I set it down on her side of the bed before grabbing my phone and heading out.

She wanted to learn soccer? Fine. She's going to learn it my way.