The next morning, Ava couldn't focus in class. Every time the lecturer's voice droned on, her mind wandered back to last night—the way Nicholas had held her, the way his lips had pressed against hers, the slow burn of desire she hadn't realized existed in her own body.
Her fingers absentmindedly traced the strap of her bag, as if touching it could bring her back to reality. But nothing could. Not the crisp pages of her notebook, not the chatter of her classmates, not even the blaring campus bell.
A sudden buzz from her phone made her jump. A text from Nicholas:
"I can't stop thinking about last night. Meet me after your last class?"
Her heart skipped a beat. She stared at the screen, debating. Part of her wanted to ignore it—to keep some control over the wild chaos he seemed to ignite every time he was near. But another part, a deeper, secretive part, couldn't resist. She typed back:
"Fine. Lobby, 4 p.m."
The day dragged on like never before. Every glance in the hallway, every brush past someone's shoulder, every step across the quad made her hyper aware of his presence—or the memory of it. By the time 4 p.m. rolled around, her heart was hammering in her chest.
She found him leaning casually against the marble pillars in the lobby, scrolling on his phone. But the moment he looked up and saw her, his lips curved into a grin that made her knees weak. "You're late," he teased, though his eyes held no real accusation.
"Traffic," she muttered, though she knew it was a lie.
Nicholas pushed off the pillar and closed the distance between them, his steps deliberate, measured. "I like it when you lie to me," he said, a spark of mischief in his gaze. "Because I know the truth anyway."
Ava swallowed, suddenly aware of how small the space felt between them. "And what truth is that?" she asked, though her voice was softer than she intended.
"That you're thinking about me. Constantly." His words hit her like a thunderclap. She wanted to deny it, to act indifferent—but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.
Nicholas stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of her blouse. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I don't want to scare you," he murmured. "But I can't pretend I'm not… drawn to you. More than I should be."
Ava's chest tightened. Part of her thrilled at the confession; another part shrank back. He's dangerous… he's the hottest guy on campus, and he could break me in ways I don't even understand.
"I don't know if… I should trust that," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.
Nicholas tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he was desperate to solve. "I don't expect you to," he said softly. "But I'm not the same guy you think I am. I'm… different with you."
Her heart pounded, caught between skepticism and desire. She wanted to pull away, to keep herself safe—but something in the way he looked at her, the raw honesty in his eyes, made her hesitate.
Then, without warning, he took her hand again. "Ava… I don't play games with the people I care about," he whispered, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "And I care about you."
A gasp escaped her lips. The words were more than she'd expected. More than she was ready for—but they also made something inside her unravel.
Nicholas leaned in, his lips grazing her temple. "I'm not perfect," he added, voice low, almost a confession. "But I'm yours, if you'll have me."
For a long moment, Ava froze, torn between fear and longing. She wanted to resist, to step back and keep herself safe. But the pull she felt toward him was too strong, too undeniable. And as she looked into his eyes—dark, honest, intense—she realized something: maybe some rules were meant to be broken.
Her fingers tightened around his. "Maybe… I will," she whispered, her voice trembling, yet certain in a way she hadn't expected.
Nicholas's grin softened into something warmer, almost tender. "That's all I need," he murmured, pulling her just close enough that their hearts almost beat as one.
And in that moment, as the lobby buzzed around them, Ava understood something profound: the lines she thought she had to protect herself with weren't as clear as she believed. And crossing them, for him, felt… inevitable.