"Lucas, I'm into you. How about giving it a shot and being my boyfriend?"

Right after the welcome bash for freshmen, I cornered Lucas Wilson at the school field, beaming with a cheeky grin.

My voice boomed across the field, and with Lucas being the new campus crush, it quickly drew a crowd.

"Do we even know each other?" Lucas quipped, arms folded, his tone detached and eyes barely meeting mine.

Truth be told, it was our first encounter. Lucas had no clue who I was.

Yet, I had dug up every scrap of info on him.

Lucas Wilson, majoring in Computer Science, 6'1", a Scorpio, with a preference for sports over spicy food, and a Type B to boot.

"No biggie, we'll get there. If need be, I'll just keep declaring my feelings!"

Ignoring his frosty demeanor, I gave him a playful wink.

Lucas looked genuinely taken aback, probably didn't peg me for the persistent type, and finally, he afforded me a longer glance.

"Name's Olivia Brown, by the way."

His gaze gave me a thrill, and I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face.

Closing the gap in a stride, I announced, "Lock it in—your future girlfriend's name!"

Balancing on my tiptoes, I leaned toward Lucas' ear and spelled it out for him.

I got so close I could catch the faint scent of cedar on him.

Without waiting for his comeback, I pecked his cheek quickly and stepped back.

It happened within only an instant.

After all, the art of teasing is in leaving them wanting more.

I was hell-bent on trapping Lucas in my web of charms, no escape.

Given his looks and background, I figured he'd be quite the ladies' man.

But to my surprise, his ears turned a telltale shade of red in no time.

His flushed ears only deepened my smile. "Consider that a little welcome gift. Hope it's to your liking!"

Lucas clamped his lips tight, a flicker of astonishment in his eyes quickly masked by a glacial gaze.

That piercing look seemed to drill right through me.

"Not a fan," he shot back, wiping his cheek and turning away without another word.

He seemed to do that to embarrass me.

Talk about playing it cool!

He's one tough cookie, alright.

But tackling tough cookies is sort of my thing.

So this tough cookie, Lucas? Consider him on my radar.

...

My bold confession to Lucas somehow got caught on video and ended up on the school's online forum.

As the latest campus heartthrob, the clip went viral instantly.

Overnight, the name Olivia Brown was on everyone's lips across campus.

While some admired my guts, others branded me desperate. A few kind souls thought we were a perfect match.

Their words didn't faze me. My mind was already racing with plans for our next "accidental" meet-up and ways to win him over swiftly.

I was all in, pulling out all the stops to capture Lucas' heart.

Whether on the athletic field, during lectures, at the cafeteria, or in the library—

I made sure I was wherever Lucas might be.

But Lucas was quite a character.

Catching him proved more challenging than anticipated.

Half a term passed and not only had I failed to snag a date, I'd barely managed a handshake.

But seeing Lucas thaw a bit—no longer as icy when I chattered beside him—was a small victory.

While I kept following him and quipping, he started responding occasionally, a sign he was getting used to my relentless charm.

That only spurred me on, more determined than ever to make him mine.

Just like any other day, I planted myself near his favorite spot in the cafeteria, hoping to catch him off guard.

After a lengthy wait with no sign of him, a voice rang out, "Hey, isn't that Lucas' shadow? What, waiting for him again?"

The guy, a dude in a black hoodie, flashed a knowing smile as he snapped his fingers.

I knew him, a buddy of Lucas.

"Yep. Seen him?" I asked, hopeful.

He shrugged, setting down his tray. "Forget it, Lucas is down with a cold and skipped school today."

Lucas' sick?

That was news to me.

Worried yet seeing an opportunity, I thought, "Fate is surely smiling on me."

I dashed to the infirmary, grabbed some cold meds, and made a beeline for Lucas' house.

After buzzing the doorbell for ages, Lucas finally let me in.

"Everything okay?"

I eyed Lucas, who was leaning weakly against the doorframe, concern etched on my face.

He was in his PJs, looking pale, with his hair all tousled—but still managing to look sharp.

"Why'd you show up?" His gaze swept over me briefly, his voice sounding frail.

I shook the cold meds in my hand, chuckling. "Heard you caught a bug, so I came to spread some love and warmth. Touching, right?"

Without waiting for his nod, I waltzed right in.

The place was a study in minimalist chic, all clean lines and cool grays.

Lucas ignored me, shutting the door and flopping down on the sofa.

His eyes closed, and he looked rough, with sweat dotting his forehead—he was clearly in a bad way.

Concerned, I approached and gently touched his forehead.

As soon as I made contact, he grabbed my wrist firmly.

He cracked open an eye, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

"You're burning up. Let's get you to a doctor," I suggested, feeling a bit helpless.

At the mention of a doctor, Lucas grimaced and released my wrist. "No need!"

"Then at least take some fever reducer."

He was adamant about not going, so I didn't push it.

I popped open the pillbox and handed him a couple of tablets.

He propped himself up and took them with a nod. "Thanks."

His voice was hoarse but somehow appealing.

"Don't be so formal!"

I dismissed them with a wave, settling down next to him on the couch.

Lucas lifted his water glass and swallowed the pills, and I couldn't help but notice his throat working—a surprisingly sexy sight.

"Lucas, why don't you like me?"

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" I propped my chin on my hands, gazing at him intensely.

My question made him pause mid-sip, a little startled.

He set down the glass, shaking his head gently.

"Is it because I'm not sexy enough?" I arched my back slightly, challenging him with my gaze.

Again, he shook his head, still keeping mum.

"Then why don't you like me?" My voice rose in frustration as I leaned in closer.

Perhaps my sudden proximity made him blush; his eyes darted away uncomfortably.

Undeterred, I boldly threw my arms around his neck, demanding his attention.

As I moved closer, his face reddened even more, and his breathing became choppy.

I took advantage of the moment and snuggled into him, pressing close.

"I'm beat. Give me a moment of peace."

Just as I was about to kiss him, Lucas gently pushed me away with a hand on my forehead.

Before I knew what was happening, he'd turned away and stretched out on the couch.

Such a gentleman, maintaining his composure!

Frustration bubbled up as I watched him pretend to doze off.

A sense of defeat deflated me, and I lay back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Soon, Lucas' steady breathing filled the room.

"Lucas?" I nudged him softly.

No reaction—he was out cold.

Asleep, Lucas was unexpectedly adorable.

I sat quietly, just watching him sleep.

He was curled up, his arm under his head, his unruly hair framing his face.

Sunlight filtered through the window, highlighting his fair complexion and sculpted features.

Watching him, I was struck by his resemblance to... that boy.

That distinct nose, those lush lashes, even his sleeping pose matched.

The realization squeezed my heart painfully.

My hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath the fabric.

One beat, two beats, three...

So comforting.

*****

The cold medicine must've made him extra drowsy; Lucas slept for hours.

When he finally woke up, it was dark outside.

He looked surprised for a second, probably not expecting me to still be there.

As he sat up, I instinctively reached out to check his forehead again.

This time, he let me, just sitting there while I felt for his temperature.

"Not bad, the fever's broken!" I smiled in relief. "I made some soup, let me serve you some."

I turned to head to the kitchen.

"What happened to your hand?"

The moment I took a step, Lucas caught my arm.

His eyes fixed on the redness swelling on my hand, his brow furrowed in concern.

"It's nothing, just scorched it a bit," I downplayed, indicating it was no big deal.

Lucas, still holding my hand, led me to the sink.

"You got a burn and didn't treat it? What were you thinking?"

He gently scolded, turning on the faucet and carefully rinsing my hand with cool water.

His touch was gentle, and cautious as if he didn't want to hurt me.

This was the first time he'd ever initiated any real closeness with me.

Clearly, men are suckers for a bit of tender care!

"Lucas!"

I stared at him intently, a faint smile playing on my lips.

"Hmm?"

He looked up at me, puzzled by my tone.

"You know they say, 'A small kindness is never forgotten'? I brought you meds, made you soup, even burned my hand..."

I let my voice trail off, hinting at more.

"And?" Lucas raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"So, how about being my boyfriend?"

I tugged at his sleeve, eyes wide with earnestness.

Lucas remained silent, focusing on my hand as he continued to rinse it.

I let out a soft sigh, laying it on thick. "Look, I'm attractive, good-hearted, and being your girlfriend is a good deal for you."

Lucas stayed quiet, lost in thought.

"Plus, I'm efficient, cook well, and I'm low maintenance!" I added, not ready to give up.

Still silent, Lucas just kept washing my hand.

Impatient, I withdrew my hand, put my hands on my hips, and glared at him. "I'm fair-skinned, tall, and I've got curves!"

"Really?" Lucas finally cracked a smile, a soft laugh escaping him.

"Yes! A catch like me isn't easy to find. Pass me up today, and you might miss out forever! What if I fall for another guy tomorrow? Don't you want to think it over?" I pushed, seeing an opening.

"Well, maybe I..."

Listening to my earnest plea, Lucas' lips twitched into a wry smile as he gave me a thorough once-over.

"I'll think about it."

The next day, Lucas was back in action on campus, feeling better just in time for a basketball game.

As the captain, there was no way he'd miss it.

I made sure to get there early and scored the best seat in the stands to catch all the action.

I came prepared with water and a fresh towel for Lucas, ready to cheer him on like no other.

When the team hit the court, I immediately spotted Lucas among the tall players in their sharp uniforms.

He caught my eye too and gave me a rare wave.

"Looking good, Lucas!" I stood up, waving back enthusiastically.

I watched him like a hawk throughout the game.

"Nice shot, Lucas! You're killing it!"

"Lucas, you're my hero!"

I yelled until my voice cracked, oblivious to the other girls rolling their eyes at me.

Huh!

They clearly didn't understand.

Guys thrive on praise and adore being adored.

"Keep it up, Lucas! Show them who's the boss!"

"How can someone be as stunning as you, Lucas? I'm head over heels!"

I lavished praise on him with every basket he made, becoming the loudest voice in the crowd.

Eventually, I had to take a break as my throat gave out.

Lucas was on fire—his moves were slick, his passes were spot on, and his shots? Nothing but net with three scores.

Watching him, memories of another who played just as passionately flashed through my mind.

He had been good at basketball, just like Lucas.

I used to cheer him on just like this, sitting in the same bleachers.

If it weren't for Lucas, maybe we would be together at college now, just like any other couple, sweet and simple...

It's all because of Lucas. He's the reason everything went south.

My fists clenched tight, the pain searing through my heart, but it couldn't drown out the ache.

It's been two years, Chad. Every memory is like a stab in the heart.

But I promise, anyone who hurt you will pay.

They'll definitely pay.

...

"Daydreaming?"

Lucas had approached without me noticing, probably because it was halftime.

I shook my head, pushing my swirling thoughts away.

Before I could hand him the water I'd brought, he'd already grabbed the bottle from me and started drinking.

I managed a smile, about to praise his gameplay, when suddenly a basketball hurtled our way.

"Look out!"

Reacting instantly, I stood up and shielded Lucas with my body.

Thud!

The basketball smacked me right in the forehead, stars dancing before my eyes for a moment.

That's not how I planned it—next time, hire someone with a softer throw.

"You got eyes or what? You playing the game or playing target practice?"

Lucas' expression darkened immediately as he saw me take the hit.

He fixed a cold stare on the guy who'd let the ball slip, his voice cutting through the air.

Even though I'd set this up, I hadn't expected Lucas to explode with anger.

It was the first time I saw him lose his cool like that, and it kind of scared me.

"It's okay, it was just an accident," I tugged at his shirt, trying to soothe his temper.

"Dumb move! You saw it coming—why didn't you duck instead of jumping in front of it?" He was clearly irked as he shook off my hand.

If I'd dodged, all that setup would've been for nothing!

Lucas seemed really upset, so I quickly added, "I was just worried about you getting hit, that's all..."

"What, you think I need a bodyguard?" He interrupted me, still fuming.

He was so harsh, even though I had just tried to protect him!

I felt a tear roll down my cheek, more from his words than the pain.

Seeing my watery eyes and quivering lips, Lucas finally calmed down a bit.

"Does it hurt?"

He gently pulled me close, tenderly brushing the hair from my forehead, his voice much softer now.

"Yes, it hurts."

I looked up at him, sniffling and trying not to cry.

"You know it hurts, and you still ran into it?"

His face was stern, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

"It would hurt more if it were you."

I offered a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of corny affection.

"Let's get you to the nurse," he said, his tone warmer but still laced with concern.

"But you haven't finished your game!"

I clung to his arm, pointing back at the court.

"That doesn't matter anymore." He shook his head, resolute.

With that, he picked me up right there in front of everyone and carried me off to the nurse's station.

The nurse diagnosed me with a mild concussion and insisted I stay for observation.

"Why did you carry me? I could have walked," I asked coyly, while he peeled an apple for me.

"You're slow," he replied without looking up.

"But carrying me in front of everyone? How embarrassing!" I pouted, playing up my discomfort. "Now that you've carried me, you have to take responsibility, otherwise..."

"I'll take responsibility."