~Ayla's POV~
I didn't come here for him.
I came for a part-time job, a few quiet months, and the chance to be forgotten.
No drama. No whispers. No past.
But life doesn't work like that—not when your past walks out of the boxing ring, dripping in sweat, looking like the exact mistake you swore you'd never make again.
Zayn Carter.
Three years hadn't softened the way his name hit my chest.
If anything, it landed harder.
He didn't see me at first. He was busy throwing punches, focused, sharp, like he was fighting ghosts.
But I saw him.
And I froze—halfway into the gym, hand still gripping the metal door.
He looked older. Sharper. His jawline was crueler now, his shoulders broader, eyes darker.
But it was still him.
The boy who kissed me on the dock and told me I was the only girl he'd ever love.
The boy who disappeared without a word two days later.
My lungs worked overtime, but air didn't feel real.
"Can I help you?" a voice cut in from behind the counter.
I startled, tearing my gaze from the ring.
"Uh… yeah," I stammered. "I heard there was a part-time spot open?"
The woman nodded and reached for a clipboard. "We need help with the front desk and cleaning equipment after hours. Experience?"
"I worked in a bookstore," I said. "Back in—"
"Drew?"
The voice didn't belong to the woman.
It was deeper. Rougher. And it made my stomach twist.
I turned.
Zayn stood at the edge of the ring, towel around his neck, eyes like steel.
He wasn't smiling.
Wasn't surprised either.
Just… annoyed. Like I'd inconvenienced his whole existence by showing up.
"You're a little far from the city, Drew," he said, wiping his face.
Then, colder:
"What—run out of hearts to break over there?"
The words hit harder than they should have. But I didn't flinch.
"Still bitter?" I asked, tilting my head. "That's cute."
He stepped out of the ring, every movement calm, controlled, and slow—as if he was trying not to explode.
The woman behind the desk looked between us, sensing the storm.
"I'll give you two a minute," she muttered and vanished into the back.
Zayn stopped a few feet from me, close enough that I could smell the sweat and soap on his skin.
"You shouldn't be here."
"Why? You still think the world revolves around you?" I crossed my arms, pretending I wasn't shaking inside. "Relax. I'm just here for the job."
His jaw clenched. "This isn't just any town. This is my town now."
I smiled sweetly. "Then you'll love having me around."
Zayn didn't move, didn't blink—just stared at me like I was a memory he'd been trying to forget.
I used to know that look.
Now it burned.
"You really think showing up here is a good idea?" he asked, his voice low and bitter. "After what happened?"
"What happened," I repeated. "Right. You mean after you ghosted me for three years and pretended I didn't exist?"
He flinched. Barely. But I saw it.
"I had my reasons."
"Of course you did," I said, folding my arms. "And not one of them included a text?"
He stepped closer, and I hated the way my heart reacted—wild, stupid, alive.
"You don't belong here, Ayla."
"I didn't belong back there either," I snapped. "This is where I live now. My aunt's place is five minutes from here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"Yeah?" He gave a short laugh. "And what happens when people start asking questions? When they figure out who you are?"
"Let them."
His eyes narrowed. "So you're not even going to pretend to stay low?"
"Why should I?" I said. "I didn't leak the video. I didn't ruin my life."
That stopped him.
For a second, the fight left his body.
For a second, he just looked… tired.
"People don't forget," he muttered.
"I know. I haven't either."
The silence stretched.
The tension between us used to be sweet. Innocent.
Now it had teeth.
The woman at the desk returned, raising an eyebrow at the awkward stand-off. "Everything okay?"
"Peachy," I said, eyes still locked with Zayn's.
She glanced between us, then handed me a pen and a clipboard. "Fill this out. We'll give you a trial shift on Monday."
I took it without breaking eye contact.
Zayn stepped back, wiping his hands on a towel. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"And don't act like you still know me," I said quietly.
He paused, right before turning away.
"I don't have to," he said. "You're still the girl who broke everything."