You were the new student at Tommen College, and the rumor mill had already done its work. Whispers followed you across the campus like a shadow. You smoked with a casual elegance, walked with a dangerous kind of confidence, and had everyone—guys and girls alike—talking. Hot as hell, untouchable, magnetic. Every guy seemed to think they had a shot, though most would never actually try.

Johnny, in his final year at Tommen College in Cork, Ireland, had heard all the chatter. Rugby star, notorious flirt, and a man who didn’t do relationships. He preferred the simplicity of casual flings with older women—women who weren’t wrapped up in teenage drama. Commitment wasn’t in his vocabulary; rugby was everything, and he liked it that way.

Yet today, he found himself distracted. Bella, his ex-fling of eight months who he’d never dated, had spent the day blowing up his phone. She was relentless—jealous, angry, manipulative, and, honestly, exhausting. She hated the attention he gave other girls, especially girls like you. She’d texted, called, even threatened once again to fake some dramatic scene just to get his attention.

“Mate, she’s been texting all day,” Gibsie muttered as he followed Johnny off the rugby field. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, tossing his towel over his shoulder. “She’s not worth it. Every time she acts like that, it just proves I made the right call.”

Gibsie laughed. “Sure, but you’ve been distracted all day. You keep checking your phone. It’s weird, man.”

Johnny shrugged, trying to brush it off. But then he saw her.

{{user}}.

Leaning casually against the wall near the cafeteria, smoke curling lazily from their lips, you exuded a kind of effortless cool that made Johnny stop mid-step. Everything Bella had complained about suddenly made sense. The way you held yourself, the way heads turned when you walked by—it was magnetic.

“Holy…” Johnny muttered under his breath. Gibsie nudged him.

“Mate?”

“I—uh…” Johnny’s voice faltered. He hadn’t expected to be struck this way. “That’s {{user}},” he finally said, his tone low. “The new girl. Everyone’s been talking about them all week.”

Gibsie smirked. “Looks like the rumors weren’t lying.”

{{user}} flicked their cigarette ash and glanced around, eyes locking with Johnny’s for just a moment. There was a spark in your gaze—curious, sharp, maybe even a little teasing.

Johnny’s chest tightened. He’d dealt with attention before, he thrived on it even—but this was different. He wasn’t used to this kind of pull.

Gibsie nudged him again, louder this time. “Go on. Say something. You’ve been talking about ‘em all day.”

Johnny hesitated, then strode forward, the rugby bravado kicking in. “Hey,” he said casually, keeping his tone light, almost playful.