~Nicole~

4:10 PM.

Still no Landon.

I adjusted the collar of my cardigan and glanced at the door again, trying not to look like I was waiting...but I was.

The smoothie sat on the table like a peace offering. A peace pact wrapped in mango and pineapple.

Landon Hockman.

I needed to get close enough to finish what I started.

He was the key to my revenge plan..

I stirred the straw in the cup, ignoring how tight my chest felt.

One tutoring session, earbuds in, letting the soft piano of Confess to You bleed into my thoughts. It was the latest OST I was obsessed with.

A knock on the desk snapped me out of it.

I looked up, and there he was...leaning lazily against the desk..

White shirt, jawline cut like it had beef with the gods, and that annoying perfect piercing right at the edge of his eyebrow.

But something was off.

His steps were slower and his jaw tighter.

No smirk this time. Not like usual.

He didn't say a word, just stared at me. Long and hard.

Like he wanted to drag something out of me...Or like I owed him an answer to a question he hadn't asked yet.

I folded my arms. "You're late."

He raised a brow, sliding into the seat across from me."By thirty minutes," he replied, tone flat. "But who's counting?"

He glanced at the smoothie. "What's this?"

"A bribe," I said simply.

He snorted, taking the straw between his fingers but not drinking."Trying to poison me?"

"Please. If I wanted to kill you, I'd let you choke on your own ego."

"Funny," he said.

I scoffed, looking away. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I'm not the one bringing peace offerings," he said, nodding toward the smoothie.

His eyes flickered to mine...just for a second..and something shifted.

I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter, breaking the heat in the air before it swallowed us both.

You need to ace this course," I said stiffly. "So let's start."

"I changed my mind."

"What?"

He leaned forward. "Let's talk instead."

I crossed my arms. "About what?"

"You. Me. Whatever this is."

"There is no 'this.'"

"Sure there is," he said. "You don't buy guys smoothies just to be nice."

I swallowed hard. "Can you not try to pretend you want it?."

He didn't answer.

Good.

"So... let's get started. We don't have much time."

"Depends," he said. "Started with what?"

I tilted my head, ready to throw a sarcastic comeback when he suddenly walked slowly toward me, each step deliberate.

My body tensed instinctively, but I didn't back down.

He stopped at the table, his hand brushing the edge before he pulled out the chair across from me.

Then...without a word...he didn't sit.

He came around instead.

And before I could blink, he gripped the back of my chair and spun it, so I was facing him directly.

His body loomed, too close. My heart leapt.

"Landon...what are you..."

"You smile at every guy, don't you?" he said in a low tone,. "What is it? You like the attention?"

I blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He crouched, coming eye-level.

His gaze dropped to my lips, then dragged back up.

"I've seen the way they look at you. The way you let them."

I swallowed hard, my brain tripping over itself.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Just wondering," he said, "how many of them have touched you like this."

His hand slid up my thigh.

I gasped, grabbing his wrist. "Landon...stop..."

"Why?" he asked, fingers stilling, but not leaving. "You let them, don't you?"

"No.." My voice was shaky, too breathy.

"Then why can't I stop thinking about it?" he growled. "About you. Letting someone else do what I didn't get to."

He stood.

Yanked me up from the seat.

Before I could stop him, he dropped into the chair and pulled me onto his lap, his hands gripping my waist, holding me there.

"Landon..."

"Don't." His grip tightened. "Don't pretend you don't feel it too."

I tried to push against his chest. "You're out of line."

"And you're still sitting here," he whispered, lips brushing my ear. "Still breathing hard."

I hated that he was right.

My hands trembled, my thighs were warm where his pants met skin.

You don't get it, do you?" he growled, pulling me closer until I felt him. Hard. "Do you have any idea what I see when I look at you? What I think about every fucking...?"

He swallowed the rest..

Every fucking what...?

But things didn't stop there, instead his hands roamed..up my waist, sliding under my top, grazing the curve of my chest.

Then-

He kissed my neck.

Slow, burning, possessive.

I sucked in a breath, hands on his shoulders, unsure whether to shove him away or pull him closer.

He sucked hard on my neck, and my hips bucked against him involuntarily.

"You like this," he whispered. "You want this."

"Stop..." I breathed.

But I clutched his hoodie tighter, thighs tightening around him, body humming like it had betrayed me long before I opened my mouth.

He groaned like the sound of me was driving him insane.

His hand cupped my boobs over my bra, thumb brushing my nipple until my back arched.

"Tell me," he rasped, lips swollen, breath ragged. "Tell me no one's touched you like this. Lie to me if you have to."

"Landon, this...this is wrong.."

"Nothing about this feels wrong to me."

He crushed his mouth to mine, tongue sweeping in, stealing every ounce of oxygen, like he needed me to breathe.

It slammed into me, raw and reckless, like my body had been waiting for it.

His kiss was punishing...angry, hungry, like I owed him something I didn't know I took.

His hand trailed between my thighs, teasing me through my lap.

I gasped.

He growled.

You're messing with my head," he murmured.

He kissed me again.

Harder.

This time...his hand slid under my cardigan again, thumb brushing bare skin. I clutched at his wrist.

"Stop," I said.

But it came out wrong-too soft, too breathless, like a plea and a prayer.

He didn't move.

Then...

SLAP.

My hand met his cheek before I could stop myself.

His head jerked slightly.

The sound echoed.

We both froze.

His chest rose and fell like he was seconds from either kissing me again or punching a wall.

But instead, he reached into his hoodie pocket... and threw a crumpled envelope at me.

It landed on the desk beside us with a dull thud.

"What's this?" I asked, voice still shaky, fingers tingling from where I slapped him.

He didn't answer.

Just leaned back in the chair, jaw clenched, eyes burning with something that looked a lot like betrayal.

I picked it up slowly.

Recognized it instantly.

I've been looking for this all day.

I thought I lost it.

"How did you even get this?" I demanded.

Still...no answer.

His knuckles were white around the edge of the seat.

His eyes stayed locked on me, as if daring me to open it in front of him.

"You read it, didn't you?" I said, my voice turning quiet. "That's why you're like this."

That's why he'd cornered me.

Why the fuck did he react like he owned me?

And worse, he just stole my first kiss.

I was too angry.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I straightened my top. Picked up the letter. Met his gaze, dead-on.

And walked out.

~Nicole~

My legs were jelly.

Real jelly.... Like wobbly, supermarket-brand, almost-expired strawberry jelly.

I stormed out of the classroom, lips still tingling, face burning, chest pounding like I ran a freaking marathon in heels.

He kissed me.

No...he attacked my mouth like it owed him rent.

That was my first kiss.

Stolen.

And for what?

I stared at the crumpled envelope in my hand. Still shaking.

Was this what it was all about?

Some stupid letter with cheap perfume and innocent words?

"You smell so good today, Nicole.

Can't wait to see you again."

That's what triggered him?

What is he, a caveman?

"I'll show you who I smell like," I muttered under my breath.

But my voice broke at the end.

God.

Why do I feel like crying?

Why do I feel like I liked it?

Ugh.

I walked faster, feet dragging me toward the hallway like I could outrun the way my pulse kept replaying his hands on me.

But fate's a bitch.

Because guess who decided to sashay out of the same hallway?

Chloe.

Tiny waist, Tight crop top, Thigh-high socks like she was about to shoot a music video.

Skin too smooth, her curls bouncing like they had their own fan club.

I barely noticed her walking until..bam.

A shove.

"Watch it, lame-o," she hissed, lips glossed to hell, voice sweet enough to rot my teeth.

"I-I'm sorry..." I muttered, looking up.

And wow.

Big mistake.

Because this girl.... Full lips, sharp cheekbones, boobs perfectly curved in the right places.

And eyes that sparkled like she knew exactly how to make you beg for more.

I swallowed.

"You lost, or just dumb?" she snapped.

Don't look at her boobs....Don't look at her boobs.

Don't let her know she's hot.

But damn, she was hot.

Her besties stepped up...pink bow, fake giggle, too much highlighter. "Don't let her ruin your mood, Chloe."

"Yea, let's bounce," the other one said. Nerd glasses, innocent act, probably the worst of the three.

"Latte's gonna get cold."

Right.

Because heaven forbid Queen Bee Chloe drinks a lukewarm caramel swirl.

I wasn't sticking around for Act II of Mean Girls Reloaded.

I shoved the envelope deep into my bag, adjusted my cardigan, and walked away.

Behind me, I heard it.

"Why's she coming out of that class?" one of them whispered.

Another giggle.

"Wait... was she with Landon?"

I walked faster.

Freaking hell.

My heart was racing, but not for the right reasons.

Not because of the kiss.

Okay. Maybe a little because of the kiss.

But mostly...because I didn't know what the hell I was anymore.

Angry?

Turned on?

Confused?

All of it?

I just knew one thing..

Landon Hockman was messing with my head.

And now Chloe just did too.

********

It's like the sky just said, "Let's fuck up her life completely."

One second I was standing by the main gate, clutching my bag like it could protect me from the emotional mess in my chest, and the next...boom. Rain. Pouring like the universe opened a tab and decided I owed.

Of course. It had to fucking rain.

I looked around, hoping, stupidly, that maybe H.P would pull up with that dented car and her usual scowl and tell me to get in before I caught a cold.

But nope.

Nothing.

Just students pushing past, umbrellas opening, shrieks of "my hair!" and couples running hand in hand.

I stood there.

Getting soaked and my clothes sticking to my skin.

I was cold and pissed.

And then I snapped.

"Fuck it," I muttered.

I ran into the rain at full speed.

My hair slapping my cheeks, my lungs burning, mascara probably sliding down my face in streaks.

Then... suddenly, I wasn't getting drenched anymore.

A shadow loomed above.

An umbrella.

Held over my head.

And I felt it.

That stupid pain again.

Right in the middle of my chest.

I turned, expecting maybe a teacher, maybe even H.P finally showing up.

But it wasn't either.

He had golden brown curls, slightly messy like he'd just run his hand through them.

His jaw was clean, soft, but his lips...God...his lips were well curved, parted slightly, like he was about to say something smart and slow that would ruin your entire week.

His glasses fogged slightly from the heat of his breath, and his blue vest looked too good on him for someone who clearly wasn't trying.

He wasn't just hot.

He was dangerous in a quiet way, the kind of guy who wouldn't need to touch you to make you feel it.

"You run fast," he said. Like the rain didn't matter.

"Been trying to catch up."

I blinked.

His eyes dragged down my body, not in a gross way, but in a noticing-everything way.

"Guess you're not too drenched," he added, lips tugging into a slow smirk.

And there it was again.

That ache in my chest.

That familiar one.

From that day.

Why did my heart twist like it had history with this stranger?

Something about him felt like déjà vu.

I swallowed again, throat tight.

I wanted to say something...who the fuck are you maybe...or thanks, I guess.

But instead, what came out was a whisper.

"Why..."

Why did it hurt?

Why did I feel exposed?

He didn't answer.

He just kept holding the umbrella steady over us, eyes still on me.

And I hated that.

"Oh...sorry, I almost forgot, you left this behind." He pulled out my lucky bracelet from his pocket.

My stomach flipped.

"Uhm... thanks," I muttered, trying to clear my head. "And... the umbrella."

He nodded once.

"You... are?" I asked, because my brain was short-circuiting.

"Fredrick," he said, too quickly.

And then it hit me.

"I remember you now," I blurted. "You're the intelligent, nerdy-sexy goalkeeper guy."

He stopped walking for a second.

"Nerdy-sexy?" he echoed with a grin. "Is that a thing?"

"It is now."

He just smirked, like he already knew.

And that made it worse. Or better.

We kept walking and I tried not to trip over my own thoughts.

"You don't have to walk me," I said, trying to ignore the dull throb in my ankle.

He tilted his head slightly, hands tucked into his jacket pocket. "I want to."

There was no hesitation..

"Okay..."

We walked in silence for a beat.

The wind tugged at the hem of my cardigan and my thoughts were anything but quiet.

Then I felt it... his hand brushing mine.

Barely.

"I didn't think Chloe could get this worked up over someone," he said casually.

I blinked. "Sorry?"

"You....New girl. One week in and you've already made an impression." His lips curved slightly. "Kind of impressive."

I chuckled under my breath. "I didn't exactly try."

"Exactly."

He looked ahead, eyes scanning the sidewalk like he wasn't even thinking about what he'd just said.

"Most people try too hard here," he added, voice low. "You don't."

I glanced sideways at him...that nerdy, calm thing should've been boring, but somehow, it wasn't.

But then... a chill ran down my spine. I glanced up, and there, on the second floor window of the school building, was a shadow.

Tall.... Broad.

My heart sank.

Landon.

His gaze was fire..

And suddenly, I wasn't cold anymore.