Ava tried to focus on her notes, but every sound in the library seemed louder than normal. The faint rustle of pages, the soft scrape of chairs, even the distant hum of the air conditioning—each reminded her that Nicholas was somewhere nearby. She didn't need to look up to feel the weight of his presence; she could feel it.
Liam sat across from her, smiling politely, occasionally glancing her way with genuine concern. Ava forced herself to answer his questions, laugh at his jokes, even brush back her hair when he complimented her—but inside, her mind was elsewhere. On him. Nicholas.
It wasn't just that he was near; it was that he had a way of occupying space without touching it, a magnetic force that pulled at her every instinct. She hated that she felt it. She hated that she noticed when his gaze lingered too long, when the corners of his mouth twitched in that unreadable, infuriating smirk.
And then she saw him.
Across the library, leaning against the far wall with that infuriatingly perfect posture, Nicholas watched her. Not just glanced—watched. His eyes locked on hers for a fraction of a second before she looked away, pretending to scribble notes in her notebook. But she knew. She always knew.
Later, Nicholas and his friends, Ethan and Noah, were lounging on the grass outside the campus café.
Ethan nudged him, smirking. "Still watching her since the party, huh?"
Nicholas didn't answer, sipping his drink with that unreadable smirk.
Noah leaned closer, grinning wickedly. "Dare you to actually make her fall for you. Go on, Wolfe—play your game. I dare you."
Nicholas's jaw tightened. "I don't do dares." His voice was calm, but his eyes darkened.
"No, seriously," Noah pressed. "She's different. Doesn't fold like the others. Think you can break her?"
Nicholas leaned back, staring into the distance as if he could see Ava through the campus walls. "She's… not easy. That's what makes it interesting. That's why she's dangerous."
Ethan chuckled. "Careful, man. Sounds like you might be the one playing with fire."
Nicholas didn't respond. He knew Ethan was right—he was already losing control, more than he'd admit.
It was after afternoon classes when Liam suggested grabbing coffee. Ava hesitated but agreed. She needed to appear normal in front of him, distract herself from the pull Nicholas had over her.
The small café on campus was quiet, sunlight streaming through large windows. Liam talked easily, but Ava's responses were automatic, rehearsed. Her gaze kept flicking toward the entrance, heart lurching every time the door opened.
And then he appeared.
Nicholas.
He didn't make a scene. He didn't storm in. He just… was there. Leaning against the counter, arms crossed, surveying the room with calm, dangerous confidence.
Ava's stomach twisted.
She felt Liam tense beside her. Nicholas's gaze shifted slowly toward her, deliberate, making her cheeks heat.
Nicholas moved with calculated ease, stopping just a few feet away from their table.
"You shouldn't be here," he said softly, voice low but edged with warning.
"I… I'm just having coffee," Ava replied, trying to sound casual, though her voice betrayed her.
He smirked, predatory. "With him?"
Ava's stomach lurched. She wanted to deny it, but didn't. "I… it's just coffee, Nicholas."
"Uh-huh," he murmured, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating off him.
Liam's fingers tightened around his cup. "Is… everything okay?"
Nicholas ignored him. Instead, he leaned slightly toward Ava, scanning her face like he was memorizing every line, every expression. The closeness was suffocating, thrilling.
"You think you can sit here, act normal, pretend I don't exist…" His words were low, a growl that made her pulse spike. "…and it's fine? You think I won't notice?"
Ava's hands went to her lap, clenching. "Nicholas…"
He didn't let her finish. One hand brushed a strand of hair from her face—gentle yet claiming. Her breath hitched.
"And don't think you can use him to forget me," he murmured, lips dangerously near hers. "I see everything. Every glance, every word."
Ava's knees threatened to give out. The intensity of his presence, the possessive edge in his voice, the heat of him leaning close—it was almost unbearable.
Nicholas's gaze lingered on her lips for a fraction of a second, long enough to make her chest tighten. He could have kissed her. But he didn't. Not yet.
Instead, he straightened, deliberate, stepping back, leaving Ava trembling with unfulfilled tension.
"You'll see," he said quietly, eyes locked on hers. "I'm not letting you go. Not ever."
He turned and walked away, leaving Ava staring after him, heart racing, knees weak, mind reeling.
Liam glanced at her, brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Ava whispered.
Nothing about that encounter was fine. Not the way he had looked at her. Not the heat of his proximity. Not the way he had made her feel consumed and powerless at the same time.
And deep down, Ava knew Nicholas Wolfe was no longer the one playing.
She was.