CHAPTER 8 #2
Nothing. Not even a glance.
“You’re really not gonna tell me? Not even your first initial?” I asked, aiming for the easy grin that usually got me what I wanted, softening my tone like I was teasing, not pushing.
Still nothing, though I saw the twitch of her hand on the desk like she was holding herself still.
I let my voice get a little growly, hoping maybe she would think it was hot. “Guess I’ll just call you my hero for now.”
That got a tiny reaction—her fingers tightening around her notebook. I couldn’t explain it, but the need to see more, to get another response out of her, pressed deeper.
After a few minutes, I said it before I could think better of it. “Didn’t know my hero was gonna be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
She froze. Completely. Her shoulders went rigid, her face pale even under the blush. I’d expected her to smile or laugh or at least look at me—but she didn’t move. Not even to breathe.
Something about it twisted in my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or something else entirely.
By the time class ended, I felt strung out, like I’d spent the entire hour trapped in a room with the air slowly thinning.
Every second beside her had been too much—the faint scrape of her pencil, the shift of her hair when she moved, the way she never once looked at me even though I could feel her every heartbeat in the air between us.
I’d been watched before. People stared at me all the time, girls, fans, classmates who thought getting close might get them somewhere…but this wasn’t that. This wasn’t attention. This was distance that hurt. It crawled under my skin and made me itch for something I couldn’t define.
The professor’s voice faded in and out, a low buzz that couldn’t hold me for more than a second.
I should’ve been relieved when it ended, but I wasn’t.
I was restless. Wired. My knee bounced under the desk, my fingers tapping against the wood as she gathered her things, her hands shaking as she put her things away.
I wanted to say something, anything, to make her look at me again. To make her eyes meet mine so I could figure out what the hell was happening. Why she felt like gravity and benediction all at once. Why it felt like I was missing something that had been right in front of me the whole time.
I’d never felt it before. That pull. Not even close. It was ridiculous, really, how desperate it made me. One class, one conversation, and I was already searching for excuses to make her stay a few seconds longer.
When she stood, the spell of stillness shattered. My chair scraped back before my brain caught up, legs tangling with the desk. I nearly went down, catching myself on the edge just in time. She didn’t even glance back, just kept walking toward the door, clutching her notebook like it was armor.
I scrambled after her anyway, heart thudding way too hard for something this stupid, falling into step beside her like my body had decided for me.
Up close, she was even smaller than I’d realized, swallowed up by a faded sweatshirt that looked soft enough to sink into.
Her hair was loose and wild, catching the light like it had a mind of its own.
No makeup that I could see, just clear skin, flushed from the cold… and me, her lips pink and bare.
Any other girl would probably have looked plain.
Average. Every girl who threw themselves at me usually came with the full production—lashes, gloss, contour.
But even those girls with all their practiced perfection couldn’t hold a candle to her.
She was effortlessly beautiful in a way that made my chest tighten, like she didn’t have to try, like existing was enough to wreck me.
The thought came out of nowhere and hit hard…an image of just scooping her up, throwing her over my shoulder, and carrying her somewhere no one else could look at her. The possessive urge jolted me so hard I had to blink and take a literal step back, shaking my head like I could knock it loose.
“Hey,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I meant. “Thanks again. For the pencil.”
She froze again, her back going rigid. I saw her throat move as she swallowed, her fingers gripping her notebook like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“You already said that.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” I tried for easy charm, but something rougher slipped out beneath it. “It was the only thing keeping me from turning in a blank page. That deserves at least a name in return.”
Her lips parted, just barely. For a second, I thought she might actually answer, and my pulse kicked hard enough that I forgot to breathe.
“Matty!”
Garrett’s voice cut through the hallway noise, loud and teasing.
She flinched. A visible, full-body flinch.
My eyes flicked toward him for half a second, just enough to see his grin falter as he followed my line of sight to her. He was still staring when I looked back.
She was gone. Already halfway to the doors, walking fast, her head down like she couldn’t get out of there quick enough.
Garrett’s voice trailed off, confusion pulling at his features. He was still watching her, and something inside me went tight. I wanted to tell him to stop looking. To stop seeing her.
Whatever I was feeling was hot and violent. I wanted to hit him. Or shove him. Or just plant myself between him.
I wanted to tell him she wasn’t his.
The thought blindsided me, reckless and possessive, and I had to clench my fists to keep from acting on it. I’d known her for less than an hour. I didn’t even know her name. But the idea of anyone else looking at her like that made something wild spark in my chest.
“Hey!” The word tore out of me before I could think better of it. I stepped forward, my voice louder, rougher. “Can’t wait to see you again, most beautiful girl in the world!”
It came out half teasing, half desperate…like if I said it right, she’d turn around. Like I could catch her eyes one more time and make sense of whatever the hell this was.
But she didn’t.
Her back just went more rigid, the slightest pause in her step, and for a heartbeat I thought maybe she would. Then she kept walking. No glance over her shoulder, no smile. Just gone, swallowed by the sunlight outside.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain, it felt like the air went with her.
“Holy shit.”
I spun around, heat flooding my neck. Jace leaned against the wall like he’d been there forever, arms crossed, grinning like it was Christmas morning.
“You—” I started, too fast.
“I,” he cut in smoothly, “just witnessed the great Matty Adler once again falling all over himself for a girl. What is this, the second time in twenty-four hours? Truly historic. ESPN’s gonna want the rights to that clip.
” He fell to his knees. “‘Can’t wait to see you again, most beautiful girl in the world,’” he cried mockingly.
“I hate you,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.
He got to his feet, eyes gleaming with way too much delight.
“You know, Matty-kins, I’ve seen you bulldoze six-foot-five linebackers without breaking a sweat, but one tiny blonde and suddenly you’re yelling about a writing utensil like it’s a love sonnet?
This could be the second-best day of my life. ”
“What’s the first best day of your life?” Garrett asked, sounding intrigued.
Jace waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll give you a hint. First word rhymes with Piley, second word rhymes with magina.”
Garrett and I both just gaped at him, but at least I was distracted for half a second.
Yep, the half a second was over. I was thinking about her again.
“Was that…feral?” Jace cocked his head thoughtfully. “It felt feral. Like watching a caveman discover fire. But way hornier.”
“Jace,” I warned, but that only lit him up more.
He pressed his fist to his mouth like he was trying not to laugh, then failed miserably. “You kind of sounded like a Disney prince after three concussions. I’m surprised she didn’t run faster than that.”
“She didn’t—” I started, then cut myself off because yeah, she sort of had run away.
“I swear I’ve seen her before,” Garrett mused as we started walking down the sidewalk.
I only growled softly at the fact that he was still thinking about her, and Jace heard it and smirked.
Asshole.
“Parker needs to hear about this update,” he muttered, pulling out his phone.
I lunged for it, and he dodged, grinning like a jackal.
“Thatcher—”
“Ooh, you last-named me. Must be serious,” he said as he pressed send on the text. He tucked the phone into his pocket, smirk still welded to his face. “But seriously, Matty-kins. Who is this girl? I’m ready to have another best friend.”
Before I could lose my mind about the thought of him anywhere near her, my name rang out.
I glanced to the left, and saw Lindsey walking toward me. We’d hooked up a few times, and I was usually down to talk to her…
But that wasn’t the case today.
She reached for my arm, her fingers brushing the sleeve of my hoodie. “I was hoping I could come over tonight,” she said with a big smile, the insinuation clear in her voice.
Normally, I would’ve smiled. Been up for a hot fuck, or at least let her down gently if I wasn’t in the mood. It wasn’t hard to play nice.
The second her hand touched me, something in me went feral.
“I’m busy,” I said, sharper than I meant to.
Her smile faltered, confusion flickering across her face before she mumbled, “Oh—okay. Wow. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She gave a nervous laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. “Didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”
“Well, I am,” I said automatically…not understanding why it didn’t taste like a lie.
“Right,” she muttered, cheeks flushing as she stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
She tried to laugh it off again, but it fell flat. A moment later, she was gone, swallowed by the tide of students, leaving behind nothing but the faint smell of her perfume and the ghost of her hand still burning on my sleeve.
I resumed walking. Jaw locked. Eyes forward.
I could feel Jace’s and Garrett’s eyes glued to the side of my head as we walked.
“Taken, huh…?” Jace finally asked innocently.
“I’m really confused,” Garrett muttered. “Who’s your girlfriend?”
“Don’t ask any more questions,” Jace whispered loudly. “He’s got a serial-killer face on, and I don’t have any cookies to pay him off.”
That finally got me to look at him incredulously.
“Just to let you know, if we are keeping count, you are my bestilicious friend number two today. So suck it,” I growled.
“Bet I know who number one is,” said Jace, doing that weird eyebrow thing again as he flipped his long blonde hair around dramatically. “And it ain’t Parkie-poo, my lad.”
I huffed, but I was too wrecked to get any more words out. All I could think about was her. Her copper eyes, her soft, nervous voice. The one who’d said “it doesn’t matter” like it was a confession.
I could still feel her everywhere—the brush of her hand against mine, the tremor in her breath, the warmth of her skin. It lingered like something sacred and poisonous all at once.
I needed a bucket of ice. Or holy water. Maybe both.
Because I was starting to think she hadn’t just gotten under my skin.
She’d cursed me.