You crossed your arms as Mattheo leaned against the wall beside you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he already knew he was about to get under your skin.

“Just so we’re clear,” you said, lifting your chin with confidence, “I’m too smart to be seduced by you.”

Mattheo’s smirk deepened instantly, slow and wicked, his eyes dragging over your face like he was memorizing every detail. “That,” he murmured, stepping just close enough for heat to brush your skin, “is exactly why I like you.”

You refused to look away, even though your pulse betrayed you.

He tilted his head, studying you with a lazy sort of intensity that made your stomach twist. “Oh come on, Trouble,” he said, voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. “Take a chance.”

His fingers brushed yours—not a grab, not a pull, just a ghost of a touch that made electricity spark straight through you.

“You already know,” he added with a soft laugh, “I’m your worst decision… and your favorite one.”