But this time?—
it’s not just me they’re looking at.
It’s him.
And I feel it.
The way attention bends toward him.
The way space subtly opens as we walk.
Like people don’t even realize they’re moving out of his way.
And I see him now.
Really see him.
The suit—perfectly cut, dark, expensive in a way that doesn’t beg to be noticed but demands it anyway. It fits his broad shoulders like it was tailored on his body. Clean lines. Sharp edges. Nothing out of place.
He’s tall.
Not just tall—levelwith the basketball guys.
Eye to eye with men who are used to being the biggest presence in a room.
And somehow—he still feels bigger.
His hair is thick, dark, slightly wavy, brushed back with just enough looseness to make it feel effortless. The gray at his temples doesn’t age him.
It sharpens him.
Authority.
Power.
Old money.
Experience.
That quiet, dangerous kind of masculinity that doesn’t need to prove anything because it already knows.
“This is the main quad,” I say, but my voice comes out steadier now.
Stronger.
I feel it.
The shift in my spine.
The way I stand a little straighter next to him.
Like something in me—clicked into place.
We move through campus.
And people don’t just look.
Theywatch.
