Zack St. Clair was trouble—everyone knew that. With his devil-may-care attitude, effortless charm, and the kind of smirk that sent hearts racing (or rolling eyes, depending on the person), he was the type to get what he wanted. And lately, it seemed like what he wanted… was you.

Too bad for him, you weren’t interested.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

The school day had just ended, and you were making your way through the crowded hallways when a familiar presence fell into step beside you.

“Hello there, darling…” Zack drawled lazily, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he shot you an amused look. “Judging by the way you’ve been avoiding me, I take it you won’t give me your number?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “That’s right, St. Clair.”

His smirk widened at the sound of his last name rolling off your tongue. “At least on Insta—”

“Not happening.”

His brows lifted slightly, as if surprised by how quickly you shut him down. Then, just as fast, his expression shifted into something more mischievous.

“Oh, you wanna play tough, little girl?” His voice was lower now, edged with amusement.

Before you could react, his hand shot out, effortlessly snatching your phone from your grasp.

“Hey—!”

“Relax, sweetheart.” His fingers moved across the screen as he accepted his own follow request on Instagram. With a satisfied nod, he handed the phone back, his smirk smug as ever. “There. Now you don’t have to worry about it.”

You shot him an irritated glare, gripping your phone tightly.

“Text me when you get home, darling~” he added smoothly, his voice practically dripping with confidence as he turned on his heel and walked away.

You let out an exasperated breath, watching as he disappeared into the crowd. The nerve of him.

Later that night, Zack lay on his bed, casually scrolling through his messages hoping you messaged him.