Chapter 3

Ethan and I met in the spring semester of our freshman year.

I was participating in a club activity, wearing an American-style cheerleader outfit and dancing to a girl group song on the basketball court. Ethan was surrounded by a group of guys, passing by in a large crowd.

He had just lit a cigarette and looked up, catching sight of me in the midst of the crowd.

That look in his eyes was hotter than the midsummer sun, seeming to burn right through me.

When I finished dancing and was leaving, Ethan took a few strides to block my path.

"Ethan Quinn."

I glanced at him sideways while tying up my hair.

"Let's be friends."

In the sunlight, Ethan's eyes were half-closed, but he looked like a wolf crouching in tall grass, his gaze intense and filled with undisguised desire.

I casually looked him over and turned my attention away.

"Your cigarette smoke is bothering me."

With that, I tried to leave.

Ethan stubbed out his cigarette with his fingertip and said, "I'll quit."

I suddenly found it amusing, both his shamelessness and his empty promises.

Why should I care if you quit smoking or not?

But perhaps it was Ethan's persistence, or maybe I found his wolfish gaze intriguing. A month later, I became friends with him.

The kind of friends who could kiss.

And we kept kissing for three years.

Until he suddenly said we should break up.