You sat in your room, the weight of last night pressing on your chest heavier than the pillow you buried your face into.

How could you have let an argument with Mattheo Riddle spiral into that? Into heat, hands, lips, and a night you swore you’d never have with someone you claimed to hate.

A groan slips from your throat as you let your head thump back against the pillow. Of course, that’s the exact moment your phone buzzes. You reach for it, thumb dragging across the screen—and narrow your eyes.

Mattheo.

Well, well, well… look who couldn’t resist me after all. 😏

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts and jab at the keyboard.

Oh, shut up, Riddle.

The reply comes faster than you’d like.

Still pretending you hate me, or are we past that now?

You refuse to dignify that with an answer, tossing the phone aside. But it buzzes again almost immediately, making your jaw clench.

You left your necklace, btw. Might keep it as a trophy.

“Insufferable,” you mutter under your breath before stabbing out a response.

You’re insufferable. You know that, right?

The three dots pop up. Vanish. Pop up again. And then—

Oh, I know. But you love it. Don’t deny it. And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy everything I did to you last night.

Your breath catches, cheeks warming as the memory slams into you—his mouth, his hands, the way your body betrayed every ounce of hatred you thought you had for him. You bite your lip and, against all logic, type:

Ugh, fine. Yes, I did like it. Happy?

There. The admission sits on the screen like a live grenade. You barely breathe before his next message lands.

Oh, you know I am. I make a killer enemy… but an even better second round. 😉

Your pulse jumps. Your stubbornness screams to fight it, but your body? That’s another story entirely. Before you can decide how to answer, another ping lights up the screen.

Door’s open, princess.

And just like that, silence. No more messages. Just you, your racing heart, and the choice you’d sworn you’d never have to make.