You and Eli Rivers had been sworn enemies since the third grade.

It started with a stolen crayon, then a sabotaged science project, then a full-blown rivalry that spanned years, schools, and every competitive event known to man. He was smug, insufferable, and entirely too good-looking for someone so impossible to tolerate.

Now, you were both in college—unfortunately in the same major, same batch, and somehow, same class schedule. If fate had a cruel sense of humor, it used Eli as its punchline.

That morning, your professor was late. The classroom buzzed with idle chatter as you settled into your seat, pulling out your notes. Eli dropped into the desk beside you without so much as a glance, his hoodie slightly askew and hair damp from the rain outside.

You didn’t speak. You never did unless you were biting back insults.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

You felt the sudden weight on your shoulder before you saw it.

Eli. Head tilted slightly. Eyes closed. Breathing slow.

Your first instinct was to shove him off.

Your second… wasn’t.

You stared at him instead. At the soft arch of his brow, the faint line of a scar on his cheek—probably from that soccer game he wouldn't shut up about. Without his usual cocky smirk and relentless jabs, he looked... peaceful.

Beautiful, even.

The thought startled you.

But what startled you more was the sudden, sharp urge to close the space between you. To lean in. To feel the curve of his lips against yours, just for a second. Just once.

You didn’t think.

Your face inched closer, breath catching as his lashes didn’t even flutter.

You were so close.

And then—just before your lips brushed his—you pulled away, eyes wide. Heart pounding.

What were you doing?

You looked away fast, cheeks burning, letting him stay leaned on your shoulder while you silently prayed he hadn’t woken up.

But then…

A low sound escaped him. Not a snore.

A chuckle.

You froze.

Slowly, you turned to look at him.

His eyes were open.

Very open.

And worse—he was smirking.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” Eli murmured, voice low, smug. “Didn’t peg you for the almost-kiss type. Thought you’d at least commit.”

Your heart nearly exploded.

He’d been awake. The whole time.