CHAPTER 52

ARIENNE CALLOWAY

Mateo's smirk dropped the second his eyes landed on Zayn.

For a moment, he hesitated. Like a fucking coward trying to decide if he should fight or run.

Then—he ran.

Pathetic.

He bolted toward the other exit, his footsteps echoing through the empty auditorium. Good. Let him run. He wasn't worth my time anyway.

Not that I could do much about it right now, considering I was still sitting on the cold floor, my ankle throbbing like hell.

I sucked in a sharp breath, pressing my palm against my leg as I shifted slightly. Damn it.

The sound of footsteps approached fast.

I looked up—Zayn was already there.

He didn't say anything at first, just crouched down in front of me, his dark eyes narrowed in concern.

Not cocky. Not smug.Just... concerned.

That threw me off.

He scanned me quickly, his gaze flicking to my ankle. "You're hurt."

"No shit," I muttered, wincing as I tried to move my foot.

His brows furrowed, and before I could react, his hand was on my leg.

Warm. Firm. Gentle.

I sucked in a breath, not from pain this time—but from the sudden touch.

Zayn's fingers ghosted over my skin, just above my ankle. His jaw clenched slightly, and I could tell he was trying to be careful.

"Did he touch you?" His voice was low, controlled, but there was an underlying edge to it.

I blinked, caught off guard.

"No," I muttered. "Not that it would've mattered."

His jaw clenched harder. He didn't look convinced.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I slipped, okay? That's it. Mateo's a dick, but he didn't do anything."

Zayn didn't look satisfied with my answer.

But instead of arguing, he let out a slow breath and shook his head. Like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Can you stand?" he asked after a moment.

I hesitated. Not because I wanted to be stubborn, but because I genuinely wasn't sure. My ankle still hurt like hell, but I wasn't about to sit here like some damsel.

"I don't know," I admitted.

Zayn didn't even hesitate.

Before I could protest, he moved.

His hands slid under my knees and back, and in one smooth motion, he lifted me off the ground

I let out a surprised gasp, my arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

"What the hell, Zayn?"

"Shut up."

I scowled. "I can walk."

He shot me a look. "You just said you don't know."

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Damn it.

Zayn smirked—just slightly. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

I let out a small huff, my fingers gripping his hoodie slightly. I could feel the solid warmth of his body beneath the fabric, the way his arms held me effortlessly.

I hated that my heart skipped a little.

Zayn started walking out of the auditorium, his grip on me steady. I knew I should tell him to put me down—but I didn't.

For once, I didn't fight him.