~Nicole~

"How nice to meet you again"... Miss Nicole Winter," he said.

His legs were spread, that damn hoodie still on like he hadn't just threatened to lick me clean twenty minutes ago.

The smirk on his face?

Cocky. Wicked.

He was enjoying this.

Too much.

My jaw twitched.

"So... so when you said I had to tutor a student in order to guarantee my stay here..." I turned to the Vice Principal, eyes wide, voice rising.

"You were talking about him?"

She didn't even flinch. Just sat there sipping from a cup like she hadn't just set me on fire and walked away.

"Oh, you've met. That's great." She snapped the folder shut and smiled, completely fake.

"No need for any more formalities then."

My eyes shot back to him.

Landon.

Smiling like the devil just handed him a plaything.

"Any objection with your tutor, Mr. Landon?" she asked, adjusting her glasses.

He leaned back, spreading those damn legs wider like he owned the room.

"Not at all, Vice Principal." He looked me over slowly, deliberately. "Miss Winter's just the right person."

My body betrayed me again, legs tight, skin hot.

I hated him.

But my traitor thighs disagreed.

"Great. Now out of my office," She said, waving me off like a bad perfume. "Lesson hour starts at four."

My brain screamed.

Four?!

I checked the clock on her wall.

3:50.

Did she do this on purpose?

I turned back, heat crawling up my neck.

"I don't accept this student."

Her eyes snapped up..She tilted her glasses with one finger. "And who said you had an option?"

I opened my mouth.

She cut me off. "You're lucky he accepts you. Unless you'd rather go back to..."

"No," I said quickly, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence.

No way in hell was I going back to Weakers Academy.

I didn't just get a scholarship out of that hellhole to land back there because of some...jerk-faced, cocky, over-inked, smug-ass male demon in human skin.

Landon was standing now. Tall. Broad.

Leaning into my space like gravity worked differently for him.

His voice dropped low near my ear. "You could've said no, sweetheart," he murmured, lips way too close.

"But I'm glad you didn't."

My stomach flipped.

I hated that his breath made my knees warm. And the fact that I could still smell the Coke from earlier on his shirt... and somehow, it was still sexy.

"Four p.m.," Vice Principal Harper said behind us. "My office better not hear a single noise that isn't academic. Got it?"

Landon chuckled, dark and quiet.

"No promises," he said without looking back.

She glared at him.

He winked.

And me?

I stepped out of the Vice Principal's office, already bracing myself for tutoring hell.

I could feel him behind me..

His presence clung to me like heat. Like trouble.

I walked fast.

Too fast.

And that's when it happened.

I brushed past someone. Just a shoulder.

A second.

But it hit me like a jolt to the chest.

Pain.

Deep. Strange.

Like something pulling tight inside.

I gasped quietly, hand hovering over my heart. I turned around quickly.

But the guy was already walking off.

Tall. Blue jacket. Hands in his pockets. Gone.

The ache faded just as fast as it came.

Weird.

My thoughts scrambled.

And then..

"Really?"

That voice.

I didn't have to look to know it was Landon.

He was right beside me now, walking too close.

"You planning to faint next? Or just being dramatic to get out of tutoring me?"

I glared at him, heart still thudding.

"I wasn't.."

He stepped in front of me, cutting me off. That lazy smirk back on his face.

"Because if brushing past a random guy makes your chest ache..." He leaned in, voice dropping.

"What's it gonna feel like when I've got my hands on you again?"

My knees wobbled. Damn him.

"You're disgusting."

He grinned wider. "And yet... here you are. Still stuck with me."

I moved to walk past him.

He didn't let me.

"Don't make me chase you, sweetheart," he said.

"I might enjoy it too much."

My breath hitched.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

And at 3:59, I was already burning.

Three minutes later, I was already regretting every life choice that led me to Room 3B.

It was dead silent when I walked in.

One desk. Two chairs. A whiteboard that hadn't seen use since God knows when.

And him.

Sitting at the back. Legs spread. Hoodie still on like it was part of his personality.

He didn't look up when I entered.

Didn't have to.

He felt me.

I swear he smirked without even moving.

I closed the door.

It clicked shut like a warning.

One hour. That's all I had to survive.

I took the chair across from him, dropping my bag louder than I needed to.

Still, he didn't say a word. Just tilted his head, eyes dragging up my body like a slow lick.

"You're late."

I glanced at the clock. "By one minute."

His tongue ran across his bottom lip.

"That's sixty seconds I could've had your mouth doing something better."

My jaw dropped.

"Excuse me?"

He leaned in just a little. Voice low.

"Tutoring. I meant tutoring, Miss Winter."

Cocky bastard.

I opened my folder, flipping pages too fast to read.

"Are you actually failing or do you just enjoy ruining people's lives?" I muttered.

He hummed. Low. Deep.

"You're not people."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Landon leaned back, arms crossed. Watching me. Studying me.

"It means you've been in this school less than 24 hours, and I already know what you sound like when you moan."

My legs locked under the desk.

He grinned. Slowly.

"You think I'm easy to forget, Nicole?"

"That mouth of yours said no, but your thighs said 'God, yes.'"

I swallowed hard.

"You're so annoying."

"Are you being honest?." He reached forward, pulling a pen from my hand without asking. His fingers brushed mine.

Intentional.

"Let's begin the lesson," he said, voice almost mocking.

He opened a notebook.

Blank.

Of course.

He shoved it toward me. "Teach me something, genius."

~Nicole~

"So... history," I said, trying to sound professional and not like my panties were currently glued to me from pure tension.

Landon didn't say a word.

Just watched me from across the table, lounging like this was his fucking throne and I was some amusement for the day.

I flipped open the textbook.

"Chapter twelve," I muttered. "European revolution."

He smirked.

"Was that the one where everybody lost their heads?"

I looked up.

His eyes were already on my mouth.

I cleared my throat. "Literally and politically, yes. Robespierre..."

He cut in.

"Sounds hot."

I blinked. "What?"

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk."Power-hungry. Bloody. Sharp."

His gaze dipped again."Bet he'd have fun with you."

"Excuse me?!"

Landon grinned, tongue lazily pressing into the corner of his cheek. "You're into control. Pretend all you want...you like it when someone pushes."

"I do not..."

"You do," he said. "You're sitting across from the guy who said he'd pin you to a desk and lick soda off your skin. And what did you do?"

I swallowed hard.

"You showed up."

My thighs clenched. "I'm only here because I was forced to.."

"Yeah?" He leaned in. Slow. So damn slow.

"What's your excuse for wearing that tight little top again? Or is that just your rebellion kink showing?"

I glared at him.

He chuckled low. "Keep talking, Miss History," he said. "Let's see if you can teach with my foot brushing up your leg."

"What?"

Then I felt it.

His boot.

Sliding against my ankle. Up.

My voice caught.

"I'll give you a quiz," he said smoothly.

"Let's start with one question."

He lifted his hand and lazily tapped the edge of the desk.

"One: how many fingers were you imagining when I said I'd taste you?"

My jaw dropped.

He smiled wider. Darker.

"I'm a visual learner, Nicole. So don't be shy."

I stood up fast, But my legs shook just enough for him to notice.

His eyes tracked the tremble, lips curving like he'd won something.

"You hate me," he murmured, "But you're soaked."

I didn't deny it.

Couldn't.

Because every inch of me was throbbing with proof.

I could still feel the ghost of his boot on my leg, still see the way his fingers had tapped the desk like he already knew what my body would beg for.

God.

Why did it have to be him?

Why couldn't I have walked into that stupid fresher's party last night and spilled wine on someone boring?

Someone forgettable?

Not Landon-freaking-sin-in-a-hoodie.

Because now I know.. He wasn't just being gross.

He was reminding me that this started the second I drenched him in red wine and he looked at me like a meal he intended to devour.

And today?

He was serving revenge cold and filthy.

I gritted my teeth, grabbing the edge of the desk to keep myself from shaking again.

"You're impossible," I muttered.

"And you're wet," he shot back, voice low and lethal.

I glared at him. "You think you're charming?"

"I think I could get you on your knees with one sentence," he said, leaning in, smirk dripping.

I snapped the book shut.

"If you want to pass this class, you better shut up and listen."

He tilted his head, eyes dragging over me slowly, deliberately.

"See, I think you're getting this backwards, sweetheart," he said. "You're the one who needs me."

I opened my mouth.

He stood.

One hand on the edge of the desk, the other sliding into his pocket.

"You think they'll keep you here if I say you suck at tutoring?" he asked. "You think that scholarship holds up if you can't handle one cocky asshole with a pencil and a smirk?"

He stepped closer.

I didn't move.

His voice dropped lower.

"You can't afford to hate me, Nicole."

I swallowed.

He wasn't wrong.

I needed this. I needed to stay in this school.

And he knew it.

But that didn't stop my glare. Or the tremble in my legs. Or the fact that my whole body was betraying me just standing this close to him.

I shoved the textbook at his chest.

"Chapter twelve," I said through clenched teeth. "Start reading."

He caught it. Barely glanced at it.

"Make me."

I stepped closer.

Big mistake.

Because the second I did, he leaned down, just enough to let his breath kiss my cheek.

"You gonna punish me, Miss Winter?"

My whole body clenched.

He grinned.

"Thought so."

His lips brushed my ear.

"You gonna flinch every time I touch you?" he murmured.

"Or are you gonna finally admit you like it?"

I clenched my fists.

"Touch me again," I said, voice barely above a whisper, "and I'll break your fingers."

He froze.

Then smiled.. "Break them," he whispered, "but you'll still dream about them."

And then he backed off.

Just enough to breathe again.

He grabbed the book from the desk.

Cracked it open.

"Chapter twelve," he said, voice casual now.

Like he hadn't just dragged me to the edge and left me dangling.

"Better teach quick, sweetheart," he added, licking his bottom lip.

"Before I decide class is over and recess is me between your legs."

My knees nearly buckled.

Recess between my legs?

Who the hell even says things like that and means it?

Landon, apparently.

I sat down..

He flipped a page.

Didn't say anything.

Just sat there, elbow on the table, chin resting on his knuckles, watching me like I was his next guilty pleasure.

Which, apparently, I already was.

I swallowed, flipped open my notebook.

"Robespierre," I said, proud my voice only wobbled once. "He was part of the Jacobins. Took control during the Reign of Terror. Executed thousands."

Landon raised an eyebrow.

I pressed on. "He was later executed himself. Guillotined."

He smirked. "So you're telling me, even the guy who played God lost his head over something?"

I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't..."

"I get it," he cut in. "You're into dangerous men with power issues."

I snapped my gaze up to him.

"Are you seriously comparing yourself to a French revolutionary?"

He leaned forward again, voice dropping.

"I'm just saying... if I ever had you under me, sweetheart, I wouldn't lose anything."

My mouth parted. My entire body went rigid.

Then his boot brushed up my calf again.

Soft.

Like he hadn't just shattered my composure thirty seconds ago.

"Landon," I warned, barely a whisper.

"Yes, Miss Winter?"

His voice was innocent.

His eyes were not.

"I'm trying to teach," I said tightly.

"Teach away." He spread his arms, leaning back. "I'm listening. Very... closely."

God.

I needed air. Space.

Instead, I dropped my pen.

It rolled.

Of course, toward his side of the table.

He reached down, slow and smug.

Picked it up with two fingers.

Held it out to me.

But when I went to take it, he didn't let go.

He just stared at me...our fingers pressed together...until I forgot what air was.

Then, finally, he released it.

"You're shaking," he said softly.

"I'm not," I hissed.

He tilted his head. "Guess I haven't tried hard enough."

"I'm not scared of you," I said.

"No," he agreed. "But you're hungry. And I'm the first thing on the menu you can't admit you want."

I shot up from the chair so fast it nearly fell backward.

"I'm done tutoring."

He smirked like he expected that.

But didn't care.

"Same time tomorrow, Miss Winter," he called as I stormed toward the door.

"Next chapter's all about uprisings. Should be fun."

I didn't respond.

"Don't be late tomorrow, Miss Winter," he called after me. "I've got something to show you. Something... thick."

~Nicole~

I woke up in a house I didn't want to be in, in my bed, with a whole attitude I didn't bother hiding.

This was supposed to be a fresh start. New school. Dorm room. Peace.

Instead?

Back in the spider web.

Thanks to her.

I sat up, hair wild, mouth dry, and cursed under my breath.

"God, I should've fought harder."

But you don't argue with H.P.

Not if you like your spine intact.

She was already downstairs, dressed like she was headed to a boardroom or a funeral...hard to tell with her.

"Five minutes," she said without looking up.

"I had a dorm room, you know," I muttered, grabbing a piece of toast.

"You wanted to be here.. So deal with it," she corrected, sipping coffee like her words weren't a punch in the throat.

"No. I wanted to be in the Royal Academy. Not back in the same house I stayed while attending Weakers Academy."

"You're lucky you were accepted."

I scoffed. "You mean I had a chance to not sneak out of a car like some spy on the run."

Her gaze lifted, cool. Unbothered.

"You know the rules."

"Yeah. Rule one: never let anyone see us breathe the same air."

She didn't flinch.

Of course she didn't.

H.P. never blinked unless it was on purpose.

The car ride was dead silent.

Tense in that way only we knew how to master.

I leaned against the window, watching other cars pull into the student lot like actual parents dropping off their actual kids like normal human beings.

But not us.

Nope.

H.P. pulled to a stop two blocks away from the main entrance.

"Here's fine," she said.

I blinked. "You're joking."

She put the car in park.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered. "We're not even on campus."

"You'll walk."

"I could've stayed in the dorms and walked less."

She didn't answer.

Just tapped her fingers once on the steering wheel.

I grabbed my bag, shoving the door open harder than I needed to.

"You know what?" I said, turning back to face her. "One day, I'm gonna figure out why you keep hiding me."

She looked at me...just for a second.

Something cold in her eyes..

Then she smiled.

"I look forward to it."

And with that, the car peeled off.

Leaving me in the middle of nowhere.

Again.

My boots hit the pavement fast.

Every step tighter than the last.

I was tired of being handled. Tired of being hidden. Tired of..

"Lost again, Winter?"

The voice slid over me.

My heart stuttered.

I looked up.

Liam.

Leaning against a fence post. Hoodie half-zipped. Lip ring glinting. Fingers tucked into his pockets.

He grinned.

"Didn't think I'd see you walking from this side of town," he said. "Detention already?"

I opened my mouth...snapped it shut...then glared.

"None of your business."

He pushed off the fence, falling into step beside me like we did this every day.

"I make it my business," he said smoothly. "You've got a look on your face."

"What look?"

He grinned.

"The one people get when they're two seconds from exploding."

I rolled my eyes.

He leaned closer.

"Want me to help with that?"

My thighs clenched.

Dammit.

"With what?" I asked. "The slow death of my sanity?"

Liam's eyes flicked to my clenched fists. Then lower. A slow, lazy drag down my body.

"The tension," he said. "You're vibrating like a live wire."

I scoffed. "I'm not tense."

"You are."

He stopped walking.

So did I.

"Your jaw's tight," he said, stepping closer. "You clench your fists. Your eyes? Screaming."

He leaned in just a little. Enough for his voice to drop.

"Wanna know what else gives you away?"

"Nope."

"Your thighs," he said.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're squeezing them."

My face flamed. "No, I'm not."

His mouth twitched. "You just did it again."

I took a step back.

Mistake.

Because he stepped forward, closing the distance between us.

His body heat hit me like a furnace. He smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

He leaned down.

"I could take the edge off," he whispered.

My throat tightened. "You're joking."

"Not really. Just an offer."

"What kind of offer?"

His smile deepened.

"Hands-on therapy."

My whole body locked.

"W-What the hell does that even mean?"

He didn't answer.

His eyes burned into mine. Then drifted down... to my lips.

And lower.

God.

My stomach twisted.

His voice dropped to a murmur. "You're like a glass ready to crack."

He reached up.

His fingers barely grazed my wrist. Just a whisper of a touch.

"You're warm," he said softly.

I pulled back.

He caught my hand.

Not forcefully. Just... there. Holding.

Thumb brushing gently over my palm.

"You think I haven't seen this before?" he murmured. "The girl who says she's fine but is burning from the inside out?"

I swallowed. Hard.

"I don't need therapy," I muttered.

His mouth tilted into a smirk. "Yeah? Then why are you shaking?"

"I'm not."

He laughed. Soft. Low. Way too hot for 8:30 a.m.

"Sure you do," he said.

He stepped even closer.

Now our chests were almost touching. His breath brushed my cheek.

And then..

"I don't kiss girls who flinch," he whispered.

My brain short-circuited.

He leaned in.

I forgot how to breathe.

His lips hovered near my ear. "But only if they beg."

Then...just like that...he pulled away.

Hands in pockets. Like he didn't just make my brain think things in seconds.

"Coming?" he called, already walking toward the gate.

My knees were jelly.

But I straightened, threw my hair back, and called out..

"You wish," I said, forcing my legs to move even though my thighs still remembered his voice.

Liam didn't answer, just smiled like he already knew he'd be living in my head rent-free.

I was just starting to recover when-

"Yo. Liam!"

A voice. Deep. Familiar.

My whole body tensed.

No. No way.

Liam turned toward the sound casually.

"Hey, man."

I turned too.

And when I saw who was walking toward us..

My breath caught.