The universe wasn’t testing me.
It was laughing in my face.
For a long, paralyzed moment, I just stood there, pretending to scan the room like maybe another seat would magically appear if I wished hard enough. It didn’t. Eventually, the professor glanced up, his eyes flicking toward me with a look that saidsit down or leave.
So I moved.
Each step toward Matty felt like walking to my own execution. The soles of my shoes squeaked faintly against the tile, every sound too loud in the hush between bursts of conversation. I kept my eyes down, pretending to focus on the rows of desks ahead of me, but it didn’t help. I could feel him there, the solid weight of his presence pulling at me like gravity.
I tried not to look. I really did. But the closer I got, the harder it became. A glance. Just one. And there he was, sunlight cutting across his profile, making him look like some sort of god. My stomach twisted, my pulse stuttering in my throat.
Another step. Another glance.
By the time I slid into the empty seat beside him, I was already failing every promise I’d made that morning.
He didn’t even glance up when I sat down, didn’t seem to notice the way my whole body went tense, every nerve screaming at me to keep still. His shoulders were hunched, muscles flexing beneath his hoodie as he leaned forward, the fabric pulling just enough to trace the lines of his back. His gorgeous jaw was set in concentration, a faint shadow of stubble catching the light as he rifled through his backpack, the sound of paper and crumpledwrappers filling the space between us. His hand paused, then dove back in, more impatient this time. He was looking for something.
My eyes flicked to his desk before I could stop myself. No pencil. No pen. Just a blank notebook and his phone.
Maybe he was looking for something to write with.
My heart thudded, traitorous and loud. I knew I shouldn’t. If we actually interacted, if he looked at me or spoke to me, it would only make it harder to stop—harder to pretend I didn’t orbit him. But my fingers were already moving, sliding open my pencil case like it was muscle memory, like they hadn’t gotten the memo that I was trying to get clean.
I wrapped my hand around the spare pencil, gripping it so tightly my knuckles ached. I stared at it, whispering silently in my head.Don’t. Don’t be that girl again. Let him find his own.
But my hand didn’t listen.
Because this was what I did. What I always did.
I hesitated for another heartbeat, telling myself it was nothing, that it was just polite, that anyone would do the same. Another lie. They came easy when it came to him.
I leaned the pencil toward him before I could stop myself. “Here,” I said, my voice so soft it barely sounded like me.
It was the first word I’d actually said to him.
His head turned, and when his eyes landed on me, the air punched right out of my lungs. Up close, they weren’t just blue; they were intense and startling, a color somewhere between turquoise and sea-glass green. Beautiful enough to make me want to fold in on myself.
For a heartbeat, he just stared. His mouth parted slightly, like he’d forgotten what he was about to say or like he hadn’t expected to see me at all. His gaze flicked over me, slow and uncertain, taking me in as if he couldn’t quite figure out whereI’d come from. My cheeks burned under the weight of it, the heat crawling all the way to my ears.
Then he blinked hard, the moment snapping. He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and reached out for the pencil. His fingers brushed mine, and the touch was brief, nothing really, but it scorched anyway. The warmth of his hand lingered long after, and for one dizzy second I thought I might actually faint.
“Uh…thanks,” he muttered, his voice deep and smooth, a sound that seemed to hum through the air and sink beneath my skin. It wasn’t meant to be anything, just a polite acknowledgment, but to me it felt like more. Like a secret. Like the first word of something I’d been waiting my whole life to hear.
The professor started talking at the front of the room, his voice a distant hum I barely registered, even though I was pretty sure he’d just announced a pop quiz. I was too busy trying to breathe, too busy replaying that single word,thanks, on a loop in my head.
Matty shifted beside me, the faint scrape of his chair cutting through the professor’s monotone. His arm brushed mine, a slow, accidental graze that sent another shock straight through me.
He leaned in, his voice sexy enough to make my pulse trip. “You saved my ass,” he murmured, the hint of a grin curling at the edge of his words. “I forgot he gets off on surprise quizzes.”
More heat rushed to my face, spreading down my neck until I could feel it everywhere. The wordsgets offreplayed in my head, turning my thoughts bright and flustered until I was sure the whole room could see the blush burning through me.
I was such a freak.
His breath was brushing my skin, though, his arm still grazing mine, and every nerve felt alive and traitorous.
It was too much. Too close. Too good.
And the worst part was that I knew he was just being friendly. But to me, it felt like the universe was whispering that I’d never really escape him.
