olivia
The lecture hallhums with activity—shuffling papers, tapping keystrokes, rustling jackets as students file in. A chair creaks. Someone chuckles a few rows ahead. I hear it all, yet none of it registers.
Because Nathaniel is next to me, his arm stretched along the back of my chair, fingers grazing my shoulder in idle, unhurried strokes. To anyone else, it’s a casual display of affection. To me, it’s a wordless reminder that I’mhis.
I sneak a glance at him, warmth pooling in my stomach as I take in the details that always pull me in deeper than I should allow.
A navy-blue shirt clings to his broad frame in all the right ways, crisp and perfect, stretching taut over the broad plane of his chest. Traces of his cologne waft between us, the one he knows I like. His hair is effortlessly styled, like he just ran his fingers through the chestnut brown strands before stepping out the door without a second thought. But from the perfectly clean shave of his face, I know that he took his time getting ready this morning. As if he wanted my eyes on him.
So, they are.
I let my gaze trace the sharp angles of his profile, the chiseled cut of his jaw, the curve of his full lips. Then I admire his eyes, a striking blue, like the surface of a lake on a clear, sunny day, framed by thick, dark lashes. Not for the first time, I am struck by how classically handsome he is. It’s almost unfair for a man to be this beautiful.
From where we sit, he looks like a king surveying his court, untouchable in his refinement. Regal, except for the way he’s touching me—increasingly desperate, fingertips pressing into my flesh whenever I shift—as if any space between us is its own form of suffering.
If he’s this tightly wound, I can’t imagine how he’d react if he found out about my encounter with Landon this morning.
Our conversation was brief and cordial, albeit guarded, as we both tested the waters. We stuck to safe topics, skirting the edge of what used to be a friendship, now fractured by all that has transpired over the last few months.
He had been my closest friend at Halford before everything changed. Before he developed feelings that I could neither return nor ignore. Before Nathaniel swept in and took up every available space in my life. I don’t regret anything, least of all being with the man I have come to love so deeply. Still, a part of me wonders if Landon and I could ever exist in each other’s orbits again.
Our interaction remained firmly in neutral territory. We discussed our schedules, the classes we’re taking this semester and rounded it off with a noncommittal suggestion of “catching up over coffee one of these days.”
I know I have nothing to feel guilty about, but I’m in no hurry to tell Nathaniel.
If his territorial display toward Adam earlier is any indication, I’m certain he will not take it well. My exchange with Landon will be seen assomethingeven though it was nothingand I don’t feel inclined to soothe a jealousy that shouldn’t even exist in the first place.
Almost as if Nathaniel can sense that my mind had the audacity to drift to another man, his fingers tighten imperceptibly against my shoulder before sliding down to entwine with mine. His grip is warm and firm, his thumb brushing lazy circles over my knuckles. Then, for the second time this morning, he lifts my hand to his lips.
I inhale sharply as his mouth presses against my skin, once, twice, again.
His breath is warm against my fingers, his lips soft but unyielding. He doesn’t just kiss me, he lingers—like he’s sealing something into my bones.
When I turn to face him, his intense gaze is already on me. I recognize that look. It’s a silent reprimand for whatever thought stole my focus from him.Pay attention to me, his eyes demand.
His stare holds me captive, and it’s then that I notice the faint shadows beneath his eyes that weren’t there the day before—a betrayal of his mortality in spite of his otherworldly appearance.
I want to ask if he slept well during our night apart, but the answer is etched into his delicate skin.
I knew Nathaniel wouldn’t handle the separation well, but I insisted. I left him alone, not because I wanted distance, but to remind him that he could exist without me. I thought it would be healthy for him to have some time to himself. But with the way he’s clinging to me now, in ways that only I would recognize, I know it didn’t work.
My thoughts are interrupted as Professor De Vries steps up to the podium. Her voice cuts through the chatter of the hall.
“Today’s lecture will focus on business ethics and crisis management,” she announces, scanning the room. “As part of your capstone curriculum, I want you to analyze real-worldcase studies—how corporations handle ethical dilemmas under pressure.”
The projector flickers to life, casting long shadows across the walls.
“We’ll begin with a documentary covering one of the most infamous corporate scandals of the last decade. Take notes. Afterward, we’ll discuss the leadership decisions made and their long-term economic consequences.”
The lights dim, plunging the hall into darkness broken only by the images flickering across the screen—spreadsheets, boardroom meetings, the downfall of a billion-dollar empire.
I try to focus. I really do.
But Nathaniel shifts beside me.
His grip on my hand loosens, just enough to make me think he’s letting go—only for his fingers to drift lower. A slow, feather-light caress down my wrist that sets my nerves alight.
My breath catches.
