It’s maddening. It’s making me paranoid. I spend half the lecture looking over my shoulder, terrified that Seungchan or one of the other guys will notice that the freshman prodigy is mentally undressing me in the middle of a discussion on typography.
The bell rings, signaling a ten-minute break. I scramble to pack my things, desperate to get some air, but the universe hates me.
"Donghwa, be a dear and pass these handouts to the back rows," Professor Lim calls out.
I freeze as Donghwa stands up. He takes the stack of papers, moving up the aisle with that lazy, predatory grace of his. The scent of him hits me before he even reaches my row.
My body reacts instantly. It’s a biological conditioned response that makes me want to punch a wall. My skin heats up, a prickle of awareness running down my spine that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the bite mark hidden under my collar.
He moves down the row, handing sheets to the omegas who giggle and blush as he passes. He ignores them all.
He stops at my desk.
I refuse to look up. I stare aggressively at my notebook, holding my hand out for the paper. "Just give it to me," I mutter.
He places the sheet in my hand, but he doesn't let go.
His fingers brush against my palm, warm and rough. He lingers there, his thumb pressing deliberately into the sensitive skin between my thumb and forefinger. It’s a small touch. Innocent to anyone watching. But the contact sends a jolt of electricity straight to my groin.
I snatch my hand back like he burned me, the paper crinkling loudly.
"Careful, sunbae," Donghwa murmurs, his voice pitched low so only I can hear. "You're jumpy today."
I look up, glaring daggers. "Touch me again and you lose a finger."
He leans in, just an inch, invading my personal space. The smell of him floods my lungs, drowning out the cheap perfume of the omega sitting next to me.
"You didn't seem to mind my hands on you the other night," he whispers. "In fact, I recall you asking for them."
My face flames. I can feel the heat rising up my neck, turning my ears red. I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, to remind him that we have a deal, but he’s already pulling back.
He straightens up, his face returning to that mask of cool indifference. He drops the rest of the papers on the desk behind me and walks away without a backward glance.
I sit there, heart hammering against my ribs, clutching the crumpled handout.
"Dude, you okay?" Seungchan leans over from the next desk, looking at me with concern. "You look like you're about to have a stroke. Is it the flu again?"
"Yeah," I grit out, watching Donghwa take his seat again. He picks up a pen, twirling it through his long fingers, and I have to look away before I do something stupid. "Something like that."
I need to get a grip.
But as Donghwa shifts in his seat, stretching his long legs out, I catch him glancing at me again. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, and winks.
I snap my pencil in half.
This isn't a rivalry anymore. It’s a hunt. And I have a terrible, sinking feeling that I’m already caught.
The air inside the BBQ joint is thick enough to chew. Usually, I’d be strutting in here, popping my collar, ready to hold court at the center table while people refill my glass and laugh at my jokes.
Tonight, I feel like a gazelle walking into a lion’s den wearing a steak necklace.
"Sihwan! Over here!" someone shouts from the middle of the room.
I plaster on my winning smile—the one that saysI am rich, handsome, and definitely not bonded to a freshman—and wave. But my eyes are doing a frantic, tactical sweep of the perimeter. I need to know where the threat is. I need to know the blast radius.
And there he is. Of course.
Kang Donghwa is sitting at a table near the window, surrounded by a group of wide-eyed first-years who look like they’re waiting for him to dispense wisdom. He’s not even doing anything. He’s just sitting there in another one of those expensive black shirts that cover everything, looking like a vampire who accidentally wandered into a frat party. He looks bored, detached, and irritatingly cool.
