Maverick is your biggest nemesis in school ever since you two were little. Some of your friends told you that he just wants to be friends with you but you keep on thinking the opposite.

While you were talking to a guy because of a project, someone pulled you away from him and lead you to the parking lot.

You were fuming when you saw who pulled you.

“How dare you pull me away like that, Maverick!” you snapped, jerking your arm free from his grip. “He was just asking about the project—”

“I don’t care,” Maverick cut her off calmly, eyes dark, jaw tight. “You were smiling too much.”

“Oh, so now I can’t smile? What’s your problem with me, huh? You act like you hate me—”

“I don’t hate you!” he shouted back, stepping closer until their faces almost touched.

“Then what is it?! Why do you always—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his hand cupped your face, and his lips crashed into yours—rough, desperate, and trembling. You froze, heart stumbling in your chest.

When he finally pulled back, his voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s why,” he breathed.