(Sierra's POV)
Campus is alive today.
People throng the courtyard, sunglasses, iced coffees, raucous groups, sports bags, music playing from someone's speaker. I barely step out of Stefano's car before eyes flick toward me. And then more. And more. It's like a wave. Some girls whisper.
A group of football players stop talking mid-sentence.
I don't know if it's because of the way I look or the fact that I am walking next to Stefano Blackwood, who manages to draw attention even when he is doing nothing.
But the effect is instant.
I feel people's eyes tracing over me-my hair, my body, my face. It should freak me out. Instead, it feels like I stepped into some story I wasn't planning to be the main character of. Stefano continues ahead, never slowing his pace.
"Don't fall behind," he says over his shoulder. I roll my eyes but catch up. We're heading toward the football field where Sebastian said he'd meet us later. Stefano is a few steps ahead. And when he finally turns around— His stare is piercing.
Too intense. I feel it burn over my skin. He snaps back fast, scoffing, running a hand through his hair like he's annoyed at himself.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask quietly.
"I wasn't." His voice is too fast. I smirk. "Sure."
Just before he can answer, Sebastian springs from the side, waving with that cute, excited energy he always possesses.
"Sierra! Stefano!" he calls. He jogs over, smiling wide. "Sorry I got pulled last minute," he says, breathless. "Ready for the tour?" I nod. Stefano only shrugs. He leads us along the field's edge while talking about campus stuff: clubs, sports events, a new café opening next week. I listen, but I'm hyper-aware of Stefano behind me. And I know that he was staring at my back.
Every time I look back, he looks away. I can feel him looking every time I ignore him. It's messed up how much control he seems to have over my heartbeat.
Sebastian slows down near the bleachers. "Hey, I forgot—I need to grab something from Coach. Wait here?" He jogs away again. God my day literally started with staying alone with this arrogant jerk. And that's when the air shifts. Because now Stefano and I are alone. Out in the open. But unseen, He leans against the railing, his arms crossed. Watching me. Why he is watching me?
'Am I looking god? What if I'm not looking good'. Gosh I was thinking that. His opinion shouldn't be my concern.
Not pretending otherwise. "What?" I ask, too softly. He tilts his head a little, studying me like I'm something he wants to understand but refuses to. "You. don't look like you belong in our house, our college neither our life," he mutters.
I swallow. "Because I'm not rich?
"Because you're…" He trails off. Because I'm what? Because I bother him? Because he can't stop looking?
He suddenly pushes off the railing. "Forget it." "No." I step closer. "Finish." This man is getting under my skin now. Asshole.
His eyes lock on mine. Dangerous. Dark. Pulling me in.
"You look like trouble."
"You think I'm trouble," I whisper, "because I don't let you talk to me like crap?" His jaw tightens. "No," he says, voice lower. "Because I look at you, and—" He stops again, breath sharp. Footsteps echo in the distance—Sebastian returning.
Whatever Stefano might have said next evaporates between us.
(STEFANO's POV)
I was going to say something I shouldn't. I was going to tell her the truth: That she gets under my skin. That her eyes mess with my logic. She stands there, looking so alive and confident, and so stubborn; it tugs at something I didn't want to acknowledge.
Thank God Sebastian came back when he did. But even as Sebastian talks again-smiling, explaining something about the campus festival-I'm barely listening. Because I'm watching Sierra. Noticing the little things.
How her hands move when she talks. The way she pushes her hair behind her ear. The way she bites her lips. Damn! Those pink cherry soft lips, with natural lip tint. If she was someone else I would have bitten those cherry lips. Very kissable. How her lips curve when she's concentrating.
I shouldn't be noticing any of that. And yet.
Sebastian concludes talking to her and then takes off running to help out a friend. He waves from afar at us, yelling out, "Be nice, you two!"
Sierra laughs softly. I stare. She turns to me. "You're staring again."
"Don't flatter yourself," I mutter. She steps closer. Too close.
"Why are you fighting this so hard?" she asks. My throat tightens. I can't let her see anything. "I'm not fighting anything."
"You are."
Her voice is quieter. "Whatever this is between us, you keep pushing it away."
"There's nothing between us," I say sharply.
"Then why can't you look away?"
I freeze. She caught me. She knows. I break the pull by taking a step back. "Stay in your lane, Sierra." She raises her chin. "Make me."
God—her mouth. So many thing is playing in my mind to do with that mouth of her. Her stupid, fearless mouth. I inhale sharply, gripping the railing behind me, because for one second, I actually want to grab her wrist, pull her closer, and- No. No. Stop. I force myself to calm down. "You don't know what you're talking about," I say through my teeth. "I know you're lying to yourself," she answers. "And I know it scares you." Something flashes in my chest. Frustration. Heat. Something worse. Before I can say anything, Sebastian calls us over again, waving at us to walk over. First, Sierra looks away. And I hate the fact that after her, every part of me feels pulled............….
Next day
(Sierra's POV)
Another day at campus feels different.
Maybe it's because I woke up with the memory of Stefano's stare still burning under my skin. Or maybe because I spent half the night trying to figure out why he hates me enough to fight anything that sparks between us. He didn't drive me today.
Nicolas had taken the car for a meeting, Sebastian left early, and Stefano… vanished before I woke up. Fine. I walk across the campus lawn, clutching my coffee and holding my head high. Eyes still follow me. Whispers follow me everywhere. The news of the "new beautiful girl living with the Blackwood" has spread like perfume on a windy day. I wanted to remind them I'm just living with the Blackwood. I'm not a Blackwood, I'm a Valentino both by blood and surname. But can't say that proudly as my father snatched the right from me by leaving us…
Some stares feel flattering. Some feel judging. Some feel… hungry.
But I keep walking. Then, just before the English building, a guy steps into my path. Sharp jawline. Messy, brown hair. Warm hazel eyes that sparkle like they're noticing something rare. He smiles.
"Hey," he says softly. "You must be Sierra Blackwood?
"Sierra," I correct instantly. "Only Sierra."
"Right," he laughs. "I'm James Carter."
The name clicks. People were whispering yesterday that a transfer student was coming today. A someone "dangerous cute," according to two girls behind me in line.
"Nice to meet you," I say, polite but distant. He looks at me with frank admiration. Not subtle. Not shy.
"You're even more beautiful close up," he admits. I blink. That… was honest. Too honest.
"Thanks," I say, stepping slightly to the side. But he follows. Unbothered. "I'm new here," he says. "If you're free sometime… maybe you could show me around?"
He's sweet. Friendly. Attractive. But not my focus. Not even close.
"I'm still learning the campus myself," I answer lightly. "So we can learn together," he says. I don't want to hurt his feelings.
But I don't want anything from him either. "I'll think about it," I say, soft, trying not to encourage too much. He grins like that's enough. "See you around, Sierra." He leaves, and I exhale. I'm not used to guys approaching me so directly. Back home people admired from a distance and rarely dared to walk up. Here? I feel as if I stepped into a spotlight. I shake my head and head toward class— Not noticing the dark pair of eyes watching from the upper window.
Stefano.
(To be continued...)