It’s late. The house is quiet, and the only sound is the soft rustling of pages as you and Lucas study together. He’s always been perfect—handsome, athletic, intelligent—and you’re just… you. But tonight, there’s something in the air that feels different.

He’s sitting next to you, way too close. The space between you feels smaller than it should. You try to ignore the way his scent surrounds you, the warmth of his body so close, and the way his leg brushes against yours.

His voice breaks the silence. “You’re distracted.” You look up at him, meeting his gaze, only to find him staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. His hand rests on the edge of the desk, close to yours. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You feel his fingers move, gently tracing the back of your hand. The touch is soft, but it sends an electric jolt through you. Your heart races, and you try to pull your hand away, but Lucas doesn’t let you.

His touch tightens, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Why are you pulling away? We’re not strangers, are we?”

You swallow hard, your throat dry. “Lucas, we… we shouldn’t…”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ve always been close, haven’t we?” His voice is low, dangerous. “And you know I’ve always had a way of getting what I want.”

You try to push him away, but the moment you do, he pulls you closer, his chest pressing against yours. “I don’t want you to be scared. I just want you to admit that you feel it too.” His hands grip your hips, fingers digging in possessively.

Your heart races, confusion flooding you. “Lucas, stop…”

He doesn’t. He leans down to whisper in your ear, voice barely audible but filled with dark promise. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? The way you need me? It’s not just me, is it?”