Letting the past go?

Bryce’s dorm room was small but tidy, the faint scent of spices lingering from the cooking class still clinging to his clothes. He tossed his bag onto the bed and glanced at his phone—no messages from Cortney. Strange. She wasn’t the type to ghost him. A knock at the door startled him. "Bryce? You in there?" Stephanie’s voice carried through the thin wood. He frowned. She was supposed to be off-campus. Opening the door, he found her standing there, cheeks flushed, her blonde hair slightly windswept. "Forgot my jacket in class," she said, holding up a folded denim piece

Here's the continuation: --- Bryce stepped aside to let her in, but before he could say anything, Stephanie closed the distance between them. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him in as she pressed her lips against his. The kiss was sudden, warm, and tasted faintly of vanilla frosting from the baking class. Bryce froze for half a second before responding, his hands finding her waist as the denim jacket slipped from her fingers onto the floor. When she finally pulled back, her glasses were slightly askew, her breath uneven. "Guess I didn’t just come back for the jacket," she admitted with a smirk. Bryce exhaled a short laugh, still processing.

Bryce’s hands lingered at Stephanie’s waist as she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. The dorm room suddenly felt smaller, the air charged with something neither of them had acknowledged until now. Stephanie adjusted her glasses with one finger, her smirk softening. "I’ve been thinking about doing that since you walked into class today," she admitted. Bryce exhaled, his thumb tracing the curve of her hip absentmindedly. "Yeah? And here I thought you just missed your jacket." She rolled her eyes, but her fingers stayed tangled in the fabric of his shirt. .

She rolled her eyes, but her fingers stayed tangled in the fabric of his shirt. "Shut up... and take me already." Bryce didn’t need to be told twice. With a rough tug, he pulled her against him, his mouth crashing back onto hers as he kicked the door shut behind them. Stephanie let out a muffled laugh against his lips before melting into the kiss, her hands sliding up his chest to grip the back of his neck. The dorm room was small, but they didn’t need much space. Bryce backed her toward the bed, their movements frantic—clothes discarded in haphazard piles, her glasses tossed onto the nightstand with his.

Stephanie thrusted her hips against Bryce’s, his penis sliding along her moistening slit, her breath hot against his neck as he pinned her to the mattress. The springs of the cheap dorm bed creaked in protest, but neither of them cared. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she arched beneath him, her blonde hair fanning out across his pillow. Bryce sliding a hand between them.fingers tracing the heat of her before pressing inside. Stephanie gasped, her hips bucking against his touch as he curled his fingers just right Stephanie’s breath hitched Bryce replaces his fingers with his cock in one slow, relentless thrust. Her back arched off the bed, a moan tearing from her throat as he filled her.

Stephanie's legs wrapped around Bryce's waist as he set a punishing rhythm, the headboard knocking against the wall in time with their gasps. Her nails raked down his back when he angled deeper, hitting that spot that made her vision blur. "Fuck—Bryce—" she choked out He grinned, sweat dripping down his temple as he hooked an arm under her knee, spreading her wider. "Should've skipped class, we could've done this sooner" he groaned, thrusting harder. Stephanie came with a cry, her body clamping around him as he chased his own release, spilling into her with a groan.

Bryce woke to sunlight streaming through the blinds, Stephanie’s bare back pressed against his chest. Her blonde hair tickled his nose as she stirred, letting out a sleepy hum when his morning erection nudged the curve of her ass. “Mmm… round two already?” she murmured, still half-asleep but already grinding back against him. He didn’t answer, just slid a hand down her stomach, fingers slipping between her thighs to find her already wet. Stephanie gasped as he teased her, her hips rocking into his touch. Bryce chuckled against her shoulder, nipping the skin there before lining himself up.Bryces phime buzzes on the night stand, he stops with Stephanie and puts his glasses on. message thread. "Hey, you up? Got something for you." Bryce glanced at the screen, then back at Stephanie, who was still lazily grinding against him. He smirked, typing one-handed while his other hand stayed busy between her legs. Kinda in the middle of something. The reply came almost instantly. Bring her too. Stephanie twisted her head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Who's that?" "Cortney," Bryce said, and felt the way her body tensed for just a second before relaxing again. "She wants us to come over."

Stephanie’s fingers tightened on Bryce’s wrist, pulling his hand away as she rolled onto her back to study him. "Cortney? The one who stood you up at Tabz?...the same Cortneythat made you unable to comment cause you didnt beilve in love anymore.." Bryce’s phone buzzed again—another message. He glanced down. Don’t keep me waiting. Something about the tone prickled the back of his neck. Cortney wasn’t usually this pushy. Stephanie sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist. "You really wanna go?" He hesitated. "She’s acting weird." "Then let’s find out why."

Bryce frowned at his phone, then at Stephanie. "She looks... different." Stephanie snatched the phone, her eyes scanning the latest message before freezing on the attached photo—Cortney’s face, gaunt and unnaturally pale. Yet somewhat alluring. The caption read: Hurry. "Jesus," Stephanie breathed, tossing the phone back. "That’s not just weird. That’s wrong." Bryce was already pulling on his jeans, the earlier heat between them replaced by a crawling unease. "We should check on her."

Stephanie grabbed Bryce’s arm before he could reach for his shirt, her grip tight. “Wait.” Her voice was low, urgent. “I know you still love her, but… look at everything she’s put you through. The way she ghosted you, left you wrecked. And now this?” She gestured at the phone, where Cortney’s unnerving image still glowed on the screen. “Something’s off...wrong” Bryce exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I know....your right...maybe i should just not worry about what's going on"Bryce exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I know... you're right. Maybe I should just not worry about what's going on.” He let out a slow breath, as if releasing something heavy. “She made her choices. I need to let her live her life… and I need to live mine.” Stephanie studied him for a long moment, then nodded, her fingers loosening on his arm. “Good.” She leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips—softer than the frantic ones from last night, but no less electric. When she pulled back, she smirked. “So.

Her fingers trailed down his bare chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin before hooking into the waistband of his jeans. "Since we're not going anywhere..." She tugged him forward, forcing him to brace a hand on the mattress beside her head. Bryce hesitated, but only for a second. The image of Cortney's flickered in his mind—then vanished as Stephanie arched beneath him, her teeth catching his lower lip. He groaned, surrendering to the heat of her mouth, the way her legs wrapped around his hips like she had no intention of letting go. His phone buzzed again. Then again. Insistent.

Bryce’s phone buzzed again, vibrating against the nightstand like an angry hornet. Stephanie growled against his lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to snatch the damn thing and hurl it across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying thunk, screen-first. The buzzing stopped. Silence. Stephanie grinned, victorious, and dragged Bryce back down onto her, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rolled her hips against his. "No more distractions," she murmured, her breath hot against his Bryce didn’t need convincing. He caught her mouth in another searing kiss, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs, spreading her wider as he settled between them. The friction of his jeans against her bare skin made her gasp, but she didn’t complain—just arched into him, demanding more. He obliged, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants and shoving them down just enough to free himself.