Ava didn't hear a single word the professor said.
Not one.
Her notes were blank.
Her mind was chaos.
And the only thing she could focus on was the echo of Nicholas Wolfe's voice inside her head.
"That kiss wasn't nothing to me."
Her chest tightened just remembering the way he said it—quiet, low, like the truth slipped out before he could stop it.
And the problem?
Her heart had reacted instantly.
Stupid heart.
The moment class ended, she shoved her books into her bag.
She needed air.
She needed space.
She needed distance from him.
But the universe, once again, was not on her side.
When she pushed open the exit door, Nicholas was there.
Waiting.
Not leaning.
Not pretending to scroll through his phone.
Just standing in the hallway like he'd been counting seconds until she walked out.
His eyes lifted to hers—slow, deliberate, and too intense.
Ava stopped breathing.
"Coffee, right?" he said, as if he hadn't heard her tell him no earlier.
As if he had already made the decision.
"I didn't say I'd go with you."
He gave a faint, infuriating smirk. "You didn't have to."
She glared. "Nicholas, I'm serious."
"So am I."
Ava felt her nerves coil tight. "Why are you like this?"
"Like what?"
"Persistent. Annoying. Confusing."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"You think I'm confused?"
"Obviously."
Nicholas tilted his head just slightly, studying her with that unreadable, steady gaze that made her knees feel like jelly.
"I know exactly what I want," he said quietly.
"And you know exactly what you're doing."
Ava's breath hitched. "And what am I doing?"
"Pretending you didn't kiss me back like you needed it."
Heat flared across her face. "Stop saying things like that."
"I would," he said, "if they weren't true."
Ava clenched her jaw. "I'm going to get coffee. Alone."
"Okay," he said.
She blinked.
Wait. That was too easy.
"Okay?" she repeated.
Nicholas shrugged. "Sure. Go alone."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to follow me?"
"I didn't say that."
He slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets.
"I'll walk behind you. Three steps. Maybe four, if you behave."
Ava groaned. "Nicholas!"
He chuckled under his breath—low, warm, irritatingly attractive—and started walking beside her instead.
She knew arguing would just feed him, so she stayed quiet.
They walked in tense silence until they reached the small campus café.
Ava stepped inside, grateful for the noise and the people and the distraction.
Nicholas followed her in, stopping close enough that she could feel him but not enough to touch.
She ordered her drink.
He didn't order anything.
He was just… watching her.
When she took her cup, she turned to leave—
but Nicholas caught the door before she could push it open.
He held it there.
Blocking her exit.
Not touching her—
but close enough that the air thickened instantly.
"Ava."
"…What?"
"You don't have to run from me."
She swallowed. "I'm not running."
"Sweetheart," he murmured, leaning in just slightly, "you're sprinting."
Her pulse stumbled.
"Nicholas, what happened at the party—"
"Was real."
Her heart kicked painfully.
"It was just a kiss," she whispered, though her voice wasn't steady enough to convince either of them.
"A kiss doesn't last in someone's mind for two days," he said quietly.
"A kiss doesn't make you avoid me, or glance at my mouth every time you talk."
Ava's eyes widened. "I do not—"
"You do."
His gaze dropped to her lips.
"And you're doing it right now."
She immediately looked away.
Nicholas stepped around her, letting the door close softly behind him so they were tucked into a small corner of the café foyer.
"Just tell me the truth," he said.
Ava hated how gentle he sounded.
How patient.
How this Nicholas—the one who wasn't cocky or careless—always made her walls shake.
"What truth?" she whispered.
"That you felt the kiss."
He paused.
"That you feel… something."
Her throat tightened.
He wasn't asking to win a game.
He wasn't taunting her.
He was asking like it mattered.
Ava's breath trembled.
"I don't know what I felt," she finally said. "Everything is just—messy."
Nicholas nodded once.
Not angry.
Not satisfied.
Just… accepting.
"Then let it be messy," he murmured.
Ava's eyes snapped to his.
He continued, voice low but steady.
"We don't have to define anything. We don't have to call it something. I just want…"
He stopped, jaw clenching slightly, like he hated admitting it.
Ava waited.
Nicholas exhaled. "I just want you to stop running."
She stared at him.
The hallway outside buzzed with students.
Baristas called out drink orders.
Someone laughed loudly near the entrance.
But in the small pocket of space where they stood—
Everything went still.
Ava's fingers tightened around her cup.
Her heart beat too fast.
Her thoughts scattered.
She could lie.
She could deflect.
She could push him away again.
But her body remembered the truth before her mind did.
The heat.
The kiss.
The way he held her like he forgot the world existed.
And the way she kissed him back like she didn't care.
"I'm not running," she whispered softly.
Nicholas stepped closer—not touching her.