Amy's POV
I slipped into the lecture hall ten minutes early, as usual, claiming my spot near the front. Propping my chin on my hand, I let my thoughts spiral, a whirlwind of emotions tugging me under. My fingers brushed my lips, and a shiver danced across my skin as I remembered Lucas's kiss from last night—electric, consuming, like he'd poured every ounce of himself into it. For a fleeting moment, I'd believed he loved me, that his touch meant more than it did. But reality was colder. Lucas was an amazing kisser, all charm and devastating smiles. That's all it was—his style, not his heart.
"Don't be stupid, Amy," I muttered under my breath, my chest tightening. "Lucas is crazy about Anne, not you. Right now, they're probably tangled up in each other, all sweet and in love." The thought stabbed at me, a sharp pang of jealousy as I pictured them together, sharing whispers and touches that should've been mine.
A voice cut through my haze, warm and teasing. "Amy… do you always space out like this?"
I snapped my head up, my heart stuttering. "Dareen?" His eyes met mine, warm and inviting, crinkling at the corners with a playful glint. He looked effortlessly handsome, his blue shirt rolled up to reveal a sleek watch, black jeans hugging his frame, and white sneakers adding a trendy edge. He radiated easy charm, the kind that could pull anyone in.
"Yep, that's me." He chuckled, sliding into the seat beside me, his presence brightening the air. "I've been calling your name for a while now, you know."
"Sorry, I didn't hear you," I said, offering a sheepish smile as I tucked a strand of golden-brown hair behind my ear, trying to shove Lucas from my mind.
"So, what's got you lost in thought? Someone special, or just stressing over an assignment?" Dareen leaned closer, his voice light but his gaze lingering, tracing my features with a subtle intensity—pausing just a moment too long on my lips. The air between us sparked, a quiet chemistry that made my pulse quicken.
My heart did a little flip, his cologne wrapping around me, subtle but intoxicating. He wasn't Lucas—not that all-consuming pull—but he was close, dangerously close. "Oh, just… thinking about a part-time job," I lied, flashing a mischievous smile to cover the truth.
Dareen's eyes lit up, intrigued, as he leaned in a fraction more, his shoulder brushing mine. "A part-time job? Spill, Amy. What's the hustle?"
I laughed, the sound light and genuine, easing the knot in my chest. "Just for the experience. I figured working while studying could be a fun adventure."
He grinned, clearly impressed, and reached out, tapping my nose with a playful finger. "You're amazing, Amy. Seriously, I admire that ambition."
"Yeah, she is pretty amazing, Dareen." A voice sliced through the moment, cold and sharp, like a blade cutting the air.
My breath caught. I looked up, and there was Lucas, standing right in front of us, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitch. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but I knew that look—possessive, territorial, like I was something he owned. His gaze flicked between me and Dareen, lingering on the small space between us, and I felt the weight of his stare like a physical touch.
"Lucas," I said, forcing a smile that felt brittle, my voice too bright as I tried to defuse the tension coiling around us. "Didn't expect you here so early. Where's Anne?" My heart pounded, guilt and nerves twisting together, but I held his gaze, refusing to flinch.
He didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on me, ignoring Dareen entirely, as if he wasn't even there. Then, without a word, he slid into the empty seat on my other side, his movements deliberate, predatory. His arm brushed mine as he settled in, close—too close—his thigh pressing against mine under the table. I was trapped between them now, Lucas's presence a wall of heat and unspoken claim, swallowing the space around me.
"Hey, Lucas! How's it going? Don't usually see you in the mornings," Dareen said, offering a polite nod, his easy charm faltering under the weight of Lucas's stare. His shoulders tensed, sensing the shift in the air, but he kept his smile.
Lucas didn't acknowledge him. His eyes flicked to Dareen, cold and dismissive, like he was something insignificant, then back to me. "You two seem… cozy," he said, his voice low, controlled, but laced with a venom that made my stomach twist. His fingers drummed lightly on the desk, a restless tic that betrayed the storm brewing beneath his calm.
"Lucas, what are you—" I started, my voice faltering as his gaze pinned me in place, sharp and unyielding.
"I mean," he cut in, leaning closer, his shoulder brushing mine, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur, "you've been real chatty with him lately, haven't you? Real close. Just wondering if I missed something." His eyes narrowed at Dareen, a silent challenge, his posture rigid, like a predator staking its territory.
Dareen shifted, his smile tightening, clearly picking up the undercurrent. "We're just talking, man," he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "That's all."
Lucas's tight smile was all edges, no warmth. "Sure. Just talking." Then he turned to me, voice soft but eyes sharp. "You usually save those smiles for me, Amy." His hand brushed my arm-a fleeting touch, but it burned like a brand.
My heart hammered, caught between shock and a traitorous thrill. I opened my mouth, but Professor Richard's booming voice cut through the tension, commanding attention.
Lucas didn't move. He stayed close, arm still grazing mine, his presence a constant pulse of heat and possession. His jaw remained tight, eyes flicking to Dareen now and then-a silent warning heavy in the air.
I sat frozen, my pulse racing, my mind a tangle of guilt, desire, and confusion. Lucas's behavior—his possessive edge, the way he'd claimed the space beside me—screamed one thing: he wasn't just jealous. He was marking me as his, unwilling to share, even after everything we'd done behind Anne's back. The unspoken emotions between us churned, a dangerous undercurrent threatening to pull me under, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to fight it or drown.
Anne's POV
I lay sprawled on my bed, one arm draped across my forehead as I stared blankly at the ceiling. The soft whir of the ceiling fan filled the silence, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside me.
I was supposed to be getting ready for my afternoon class, but my body felt heavy-weighted down by frustration and something else I wasn't ready to name.
The argument with Lucas played on repeat in my mind-his curt replies, the way he avoided my eyes. That half-hearted kiss on my forehead before he left? It felt like a script he was tired of acting out. His touch had become routine, distant, like I was more an obligation than a passion.
But last night with John was different.
I rolled onto my side, biting my bottom lip as memories of him flooded me-the way his hands gripped my waist, his voice dropping low as he murmured my name against my skin. The way his body pressed into mine like he belonged there, and somehow, it felt like he did.
A slow warmth bloomed in my chest. My breath hitched as I pictured his eyes-dark, confident, and focused solely on me. That tattoo on his forearm had traced fire down my spine the moment I saw it. Dangerous. Older. Deliciously tempting.
I hadn't even asked his age. How had I missed that?
My fingers hovered over my phone on the nightstand, heart racing. Should I call him? See him again? A smirk tugged at my lips. I wasn't sure what this meant yet, but the thought of John made me feel something Lucas never could.
Wanted.
Alive.
And I wasn't ready to let that feeling go.