Caught By My Cold Senior

Crashing at an untouchable senior's highend apartment was supposed to be a temporary fix.

In the middle of the night, I borrowed his iPad to send a voice message to a guy I was talking to on Snapchat. But when I tapped play, dead silence.

I cranked the volume, and a split second later, his bedroom door violently swung open.

The senior stood there with an AirPod hanging from his left ear, his tone flat. "Next time you decide to use that fake sweet voice, make sure you disconnect my AirPods first." Chapter 1 Crashing at Alistair's place was actually an accident.

Our families were old friends, and since my parents were out of town for the break, they dumped me on him.

After moving in, I quickly realized that Alistair—the untouchable, perfect senior everyone worshipped on campus—was a different person behind closed doors.

For instance, he hardly studied but still managed to ace every class. On multiple late nights, I'd go to the living room for a glass of water and find his monitors glowing.

The rapid clicking of his keyboard meant he was definitely running games. Usually the next day, he wouldn't roll out of bed until almost noon.

He'd lean against his doorframe, his clothes hanging loose, and toss a twentydollar bill at me, telling me to go downstairs and grab two Americanos and bagels.

I kept the change as my delivery fee. Occasionally, I'd catch the faint scent of smoke on him. But he never made me buy him cigarettes.

We managed to coexist peacefully like this for two weeks. Minding our own business became our default setting. Until one day, I dropped my phone in the sink and fried it.

I had to beg Alistair for a lifeline.

He walked out of his bedroom, tossed an iPad at me, and said, "Leave it on the coffee table when you're done." I grabbed the iPad and immediately logged into my account.

The reason I was in such a rush was because of this guy I was talking to online. We met in a campus interest group chat, but we hadn't met in person yet.

We clicked, so we ended up messaging almost every night. At midnight, Alistair's bedroom door was already shut.

I crept over to the living room sofa, found the corner with the best WiFi, cleared my throat, and recorded a voice note.

Just to make sure I sounded cute enough, I tapped play to listen back. But no matter how many times I tapped, it was dead silent. Frustrated, I mashed the volume button a few times.

Still nothing. I froze. Did I break his iPad? Suddenly—Bang! The bedroom door was kicked open. Alistair stood there in a loose white shirt, his hair a messy, rumpled nest.

He leaned against the doorframe, pulled an AirPod from his left ear, and chucked it at me.

He looked seriously pissed off. "Next time you decide to use that fake sweet voice, make sure you disconnect my AirPods first." For a second, I just sat there.

Then the heat rushed straight to my neck and cheeks. Alistair had heard me calling the guy babe on Snapchat.

He ran a hand through his hair, lazily stalked over, and stopped right in front of me before suddenly leaning down. His shadow fell over me, heavy and suffocating.

The sharp scent of mint and tobacco forced my spine flush against the back of the sofa. Alistair's lips curled up. "Calling some random guy babe?

Is that how you kids date now?" I avoided his eyes, my fingers digging into the couch cushions. "None of your business." Alistair stared at me for a long moment.

The corner of his eye twitched slightly as he repeated my words. "None of my business?" "Yeah!" "Right." Alistair straightened up and tapped his phone screen awake. "Let's see if it's your mom's business then." "Don't!" I lunged forward, grabbing his wrist. "Don't tell my mom." If she found out I was already desperate to date in my freshman year, she'd kill me.

Alistair didn't even flinch. He looked down at me with a lazy smirk. "Me, or your mom.

Pick one." "You." He sank into the plush sofa, leaning back against the cushions as his eyes dragged over me. "Spill.

How did you two hook up?" "Alistair, we just met in a group chat." My ears were burning so hot they felt like they might melt off.

He let out a low, teasing laugh. "He's one year older and you're calling him babe?

What the hell does that make me to you?" "A… Alistair?" Alistair snatched the glass of ice water out of my hand.

He tilted his head back and took a long drink, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply. "Clara, when you were three, I was the one changing your dirty diapers." "When you were three, you used to follow me around begging for candy." Chapter 2 "Now, you call some random guy babe, but you call me by my name." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that's right?" I felt like I was sitting in the principal's office.

I nodded rapidly. "My bad. Consider me corrected." "So what should you call me?" "Alistair…" "Good.

Go back to sleep." My eyes locked onto the device sitting next to him. "The iPad…" Alistair didn't blink. "It's dead." He was lying through his teeth.

It literally had 99% battery left. Seeing his thumb hover over my mom's contact on his phone, I swallowed my protests and dragged my feet back to my room.

First thing the next morning, I rushed out and paid a guy to fix my phone. The guy from Snapchat had blown up my phone with messages, asking to meet at the campus library today.

We were finally meeting in person. My pulse raced.

Alistair happened to head out to run errands, so I slipped into a white sundress that showed off my collarbones, threw on some light makeup, and happily made my way over.

A tall guy stood by the entrance holding two iced Starbucks shaken espressos. He wore a perfectly tailored casual shirt, looking straight out of an Ivy League brochure.

This was Graham, the president of the academic committee at our university. He was insanely popular among the girls on campus.

I hesitated for a second before walking over. "Graham?" He turned at the sound of his name, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Clara. Finally." Oh my god, it was actually him!

My heart hammered against my ribs, and I suddenly found the pavement extremely interesting, unable to hold his gaze. I was so lucky.

He handed me one of the cups. "Caramel Macchiato, with double cream." I took it with both hands. "Thanks." "There's a movie playing tonight.

Want to go?" "I'd love to—" The words died in my throat. Through the floortoceiling windows of the attached cafe, I saw Alistair.

He was slouched in a chair in his crisp white shirt, legs crossed at the knee, staring dead at me. Our eyes met.

He didn't make a sound, but his lips mouthed a clear command: Come here. Crap. My secret date just got busted. Only an idiot would walk in there!

I grabbed Graham's wrist, my fingertips digging in slightly. "Graham, I suddenly don't want to stay at the cafe anymore.

Can we just go see the movie right now?" Graham blinked, surprised, before flashing a blindingly bright smile. "Sure. Whatever you want." Just as he said that, his phone rang.

Through the glass, I saw Alistair lift his phone to his ear and say something. Graham hung up a second later and turned to me. "The student council president is right inside.

Didn't you say you wanted to join the arts committee?

Come on, I'll introduce you." A terrible feeling washed over me. "I… I don't really want to—" Graham waved at someone through the glass and gently pulled my arm. "Come on, Clara." And just like that, I found myself sitting stiffly across from Alistair, my head practically buried under the table.

Alistair scanned me with a lazy, halfamused smirk. He looked up at Graham. "New girlfriend?" Graham's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Still working on it.

She's a bit shy." Alistair's gaze dragged over me, slow and deliberate. "Oh… shy," he repeated, dragging out the word. "Well then, let's grab lunch together." I choked on my iced macchiato, coughing violently.

Graham looked confused, patting my back as he asked Alistair, "Didn't you just say you had to go home and cook for the kid?" Alistair shot me a cool, sidelong glance. "The kid is ungrateful and ran off.

The apartment is empty." I wanted the floor to crack open and swallow me whole. I wouldn't dare eat with him.

I avoided his eyes, shooting up from my chair and gripping my bag strap so hard my knuckles turned white. "You guys chat. My stomach suddenly hurts.

I'm gonna go." Alistair stood up too. "Forget it then. Let's just head back." Graham looked completely lost. "Uh… okay…" My date was ruined by Alistair.

Walking back to the apartment, my phone buzzed with a text from Graham telling me to get some rest. The more I thought about it, the more my blood boiled.

Chapter 3 "Hey—" Alistair dragged out the word, calling after me. "What's the rush?" I hated him right then, but I was terrified he'd actually call my mom.

I kept my head down and trudged back. "What?" "So your online boyfriend is Graham." "Yeah.

Do you have a problem with that?" "Not happening." I spun around, my chest heaving. "What gives you the right to tell me what to do?" Alistair stared at me for a long moment before letting out a cold, sharp laugh. "While you're living with me, there's no playing house." "I'm not a kid!" Alistair suddenly pulled a small box from his pocket and shoved it against my chest. "Ever seen one of these?" I stared at the little square box.

When it finally clicked, my cheeks burned like they were on fire. "You have a filthy mind!" Alistair effortlessly caught the box as I chucked it back at him. "Graham asked me to pick these up for him." He leaned down, stepping perfectly into my space.

The clean scent of his laundry detergent mixed with dark tobacco swallowed me up. "You little idiot. You are nowhere near ready to give guys our age what they actually want.

So keep your head down, behave, and get the hell out of here when the break is over." My fingernails dug into my palms. It was the most humiliating moment of my life.

He had ripped open every naive thought in my head and left it bleeding on the pavement. "People grow up!

How do you know I'm not ready?" "Oh really?" Alistair's eyes darkened, unreadable. "Let me take you somewhere." I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

By 11 PM, the downtown strip was packed, neon signs bleeding into the dark. I'd known for a long time that the downtown club district was a playground for adults.

I'd never dared to step foot here. Alistair shoved open the heavy metal doors of an underground club. I had never been anywhere like this.

My hands felt clammy as I stayed glued to Alistair's back. The bass from the speakers vibrated straight through my ribs.

Strobe lights slashed through the pitch black, almost blinding me. Alistair navigated the crowd like he owned the place.

He knocked on the bar counter. "One Jägermeister." He shot me a sideways glance. "Can you handle liquor?" I nodded.

Alistair raised a surprised eyebrow, then turned back to the bartender. "Add a Mojito." I hadn't realized he was meeting people.

When his friends saw me, they instantly started whistling and jeering. "Alistair, man, who's the fresh meat?" He casually dropped into a booth. "Just a kid from home.

Back off." "Ooh, someone's feeling possessive." One of them waved me over. "Come here, sweetie.

Sit right next to Alistair so you don't get lost." There was only a tiny sliver of space next to him. I pushed past the guys and squeezed in. He didn't shift his weight at all.

I was forced to compress myself into the corner, my spine totally rigid against the leather booth. He slid the Mojito in front of me. "Stay right here.

Don't wander off, and never let go of your drink. Got it?" The group erupted into another round of laughter. "Alistair, is she seriously just a kid from home?

People are gonna think you changed your taste." "Taste?" I zeroed in on the word.

The bleachedblonde guy next to me blew a loud whistle. "You gonna tattle to your parents, little girl?

Call me babe, and I'll spill all of Alistair's dirty secrets." My pulse jumped. If I had something to hold over Alistair, he couldn't boss me around anymore.

Alistair didn't even react. He just quietly sipped his drink. His phone screen lit up, and I caught a quick glimpse—he was texting someone.

The guy next to me kept all his attention on me. The clinking of glasses drew my eyes back to him.

He tapped his glass, the amber liquid catching the flashing strobes. "Drink up, babe.

Finish this, and I'll tell you exactly who Alistair's exgirlfriend is." That hooked my curiosity. I reached for the glass.

Suddenly, a large, knuckleheavy hand shot out of nowhere, gripping the glass before I could touch it. Smash!

The Red Bull collided with the Jägermeister, foam violently erupting over the rim. Chapter 4 Alistair brought the glass to his lips with practiced ease and downed it in one shot.

He slid the empty glass back across the table, his eyes dead and calm. "It's empty.

Tell her." Under that quiet, suffocating pressure, the bleachedblonde guy instantly started stuttering. "Alistair… man, I was just messing around." Alistair stared at him for a long moment before a sudden, cold smile broke across his face. "Nice Jagerbomb.

I'll buy you ten more to return the favor." The guy's face drained of color. He stood up with an awkward, stiff laugh. "Right… I actually have somewhere to be.

Next time… next time…" Thinking about what just happened, a cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck.

I was a complete lightweight and had only ever drank with my close sorority sisters.

Forcing myself to follow Alistair here tonight was already turning into a massive regret. "Scared?" Alistair snatched a freshly lit cigarette from the guy sitting next to him and crushed it out in the ashtray. "If you're scared, go home.

And stay the hell away from Graham from now on." "What does Graham have to do with this?" Alistair leaned his head back against the leather booth.

The harsh lines of his face softened slightly, his eyes drifting shut like the alcohol was finally hitting him. "You idiot.

Taking a drink for you… that is something he would never do." There was a restless edge to him tonight.

When he called me an idiot, his voice was laced with a faint exhaustion, like he was deeply disappointed by how useless I was.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated against the table, the screen lighting up. Alistair let out a long breath and unbuttoned the top of his collar. He stood up. "Sinclair, do me a favor.

Take her home." The guy he called leaned forward out of the shadows. The first thing I noticed was his watch. I didn't recognize the brand, but the heavy metal screamed expensive.

He looked out of place here, wearing a crisp, tailored gray overcoat that made him look elegant and untouchable.

He gave me a brief, blank look and picked up his car keys. "Give me the address." I sat there lost. Where was Alistair going?

I blinked, and Alistair had already vanished into the crowd. I scrambled to my feet, mumbled a quick apology for the trouble, and followed Sinclair out the door.

A row of cars was parked in the back alley behind the club. The freezing night wind hit my face, clearing some of the fog from my brain.

I suddenly realized I was standing right in front of a sleek black Maybach. My breath hitched. He had serious money. Sinclair pulled open the rear door of the Maybach.

I climbed in, stiff, my hands tightly clasped together on my lap. Once inside, I noticed something strange.

The interior was pure minimalist luxury, but the passenger seat had a cartoon headrest, and snacks were scattered all over the side console.

I held my breath, unable to figure out how a guy this young and elegant already had a daughter. The silence in the car was suffocating.

I turned my head to watch the streetlights blur past the window. Suddenly, Sinclair's phone rang. He did not even hesitate before answering it through the car's Bluetooth.

A young girl's voice filled the cabin. "Hey, Sinclair. Come pick me up right now." Her words were slurred with alcohol.

Sinclair instantly replied, "Where are you?" She rattled off an address and immediately hung up. For some reason, the car accelerated. I realized I was definitely dragging him down.

I forced myself to speak up. "Sinclair, if you need to go pick up…" "Yeah. The princess." Sinclair's tone remained perfectly calm, showing zero signs of panic. "I know that block.

It is not far from Alistair's apartment. You can just drop me off at the intersection." Sinclair hesitated for a second. "It is fine.

It is still early, and the streets are crowded." Sinclair paused, then spoke with genuine relief. "Thank you." Chapter 5 I got out at the intersection near Alistair's apartment block, watching the Maybach smoothly disappear into the night.

I let out a long breath and turned to head home. Suddenly, I slapped my forehead. The apartment keys were still in Alistair's pocket. I was locked out.

I dropped onto the curb at the corner of the block, staring blankly across the street at a narrow alleyway. Slowly, my spine straightened. My vision focused, and I narrowed my eyes.

The guy in the shadows… looked exactly like Alistair. And there was someone else… a girl? They were standing dangerously close.

Alistair was leaning loosely against the brick wall, his head tipped down… Kissing? I rubbed my eyes, unable to see clearly in the dark. After a few minutes, the girl walked away.

Alistair's silhouette remained perfectly still in the shadows. Ten minutes passed. I couldn't sit there any longer. Did he pass out standing up? I needed to get inside.

The midnight street was completely deserted. I crossed over and stopped at the mouth of the alley. "Alistair?" I called out tentatively to the dark figure.

He stayed glued to the wall. I couldn't tell if he was awake or out cold. I hesitated for a second before stepping into the alley.

As I got closer, the heavy stench of Jägermeister hit me, mixed with a sharp trace of women's perfume… So they definitely… I swallowed hard.

I reached out, my fingers grabbing the slightly wrinkled hem of his shirt. "Alistair," I whispered. "Let's go home." The narrow brick walls blocked out the night wind, leaving the heavy scent of alcohol suspended in the dead, suffocating air.

A sliver of streetlight bled into the alley.

In the dim glow, I could see Alistair right in front of me, his thick eyelashes lowered, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He really was passed out.

I got curious and went up on my tiptoes, leaning in closer to check. That was when I saw it—his halfopen, freezing eyes, swirling with a dark, restless heat. I froze.

Before I could even react, Alistair's hand shot out. His long fingers clamped down hard on my jaw, dragging me up until my mouth crashed directly against his.

A violent shudder ripped through me. My backpack slipped from my shoulder, hitting the concrete with a dull thud. My brain shortcircuited. He had the wrong person!

He was kissing the wrong girl! The suffocating darkness pressed in, that foreign perfume screaming at me, trying to shove away the outsider who shouldn't be here.

My fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt in a death grip, my eyes burning uncontrollably. Alistair didn't even notice.

His teeth grazed my lower lip, his rough, alcohollaced breath ghosting across my skin. "Did you eat candy…" he murmured, his voice wrecked. "So sweet…" He had ruined my date.

He had stood there lecturing me, ordering me not to date. So what the hell was this?

I kicked him hard in the shin, snatched his keys from his pocket, and practically sprinted away like a total coward.

I bolted into the apartment, rushed straight to my room, and started shoving my clothes into a duffel bag. I wanted to pack up and get out immediately.

Then I realized I was holding the only set of keys. If I left, he was locked out. I dragged myself out to the living room and sank into the sofa. The clock ticked past midnight.

Alistair never showed up. Eventually, exhaustion dragged me under, and I passed out against the cushions. I had a nightmare about that pretty upperclassman.

She had her arms wrapped tight around Alistair's neck, glaring at me. "Kids don't get to play house," she sneered. "Alistair is mine." The harsh blare of my alarm violently yanked me awake, sending me rolling straight onto the hardwood floor.

I groaned, rubbing my stiff neck as I slowly pushing myself up. I scanned the living room. It was empty. Alistair hadn't come back all night. He stayed out.

The only logical explanation my brain could come up with was that he realized he kissed the wrong girl and went back to apologize to his girlfriend.

I stared at my phone for a long time, my thumb hovering over his contact. Just as I was about to call him, a sharp knock hit the front door.

Chapter 6 I ran over and pulled the door open. Alistair stood in the hallway, holding a brown paper bag from a local bakery and two steaming cups of coffee.

He was still wearing the same clothes from last night. His hair was a little messier than usual, and there was a faint smudge of ash on his shirt.

He pushed past me into the apartment, kicking off his shoes like nothing happened. "Eat." I forced the words out of my throat. "I'm moving out." Alistair finally noticed the packed duffel bag sitting by the sofa.

He stopped in his tracks. "Where?" "I called a friend.

She said I can crash at her place for a bit." "Guy or girl?" I shot him a hard glare. "You sound exactly like my mom." Alistair tossed the warm breakfast sandwiches onto a plate and pulled out a chair. "Eat first.

We'll talk after." I was actually starving. The rich smell of toasted bread and melted cheese chipped away at my resolve.

I slowly sat down and took a bite. "Why do you want to move out?" Alistair pushed a coffee toward me, tearing open a sugar packet and dumping it in.

I stumbled over my words. "Last night… in the alley…" Alistair took a bite of his sandwich, his jaw ticking. "What about last night?" I bit down hard on my lower lip, avoiding his gaze. "Nothing.

Just… want to go stay at a friend's place for a few days." I had walked right up to him. He kissed the wrong girl and blacked out. The realization tasted like ash in my mouth.

A sudden surge of rebellion spiked in my chest. I jerked my head up and locked eyes with Alistair. "I. Am. Starting. To. Date." Alistair's chewing paused.

He gave me a long, unreadable look. "Does your mom know you're getting a girlfriend?" My nails dug into my palms. Alistair's lips curved into a faint smirk. "Go.

Just come back in a few days." "You literally told me to get the hell out." "Not this early." Alistair pointed at my stuffed duffel bag. "And you don't need to drag all of that with you." I didn't argue anymore.

I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. My friend Chloe threw her front door open. The second I stepped inside, she cornered me. "Did you meet your Snapchat guy?" "Yeah.

It was Graham." "No way!

You hit the jackpot!" She squealed. "I had no idea you were into the preppy fuckboy type!" My brain snagged on the last word. "Fuck… boy?" Chloe squeezed her yogurt pouch and blinked at me. "Wait, you didn't know?" She leaned in close, dropping her voice to a whisper like someone was listening. "Graham does… that." "Does what?" Her face flushed dark red. "Exactly what you think." My mind instantly flashed back to the small square box Alistair had tossed at my chest.

I completely froze. Chloe stared at my expression and gasped loudly. "No way! You seriously didn't know? And you just dived right in?" Alistair hadn't been lying.

After that, the energy drained right out of me. I nodded along to Chloe's chatter, my fingers picking blindly at a loose thread on my jeans.

A heavy knot formed in my stomach. "Birds of a feather flock together. I bet Alistair is the exact same type." Chloe took a huge bite of her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Hearing his name, my mouth moved before my brain could stop it. "He's not." Chloe stopped midbite and shot me a curious look. "How do you know?" I obviously couldn't spill that I was the one crashing at his apartment.

The tips of my ears burned hot. "I… I have a sorority sister who knows him. She's staying at his place for the break.

It's totally safe." Chapter 7 Chloe propped her chin on her hand, her eyes gleaming with gossip. "Maybe she was just too boring for Alistair.

Trust me, when a guy like that actually wants something, he doesn't wait around for the girl to make a move.

Crashing at his place is basically throwing yourself to the wolves." I wanted to argue back, but the memory of that brief, alcohollaced kiss in the alley flashed across my mind.

It was a harsh reminder that Chloe was completely right. Alistair treated the person he actually liked differently.

Even his voice was entirely different. "I'm going to sleep." I pulled the comforter up over my head, staring at the dark ceiling. "I'm literally going to die single." I spent my entire high school life buried in textbooks just to get into this university, only to find out my first college crush was a total fuckboy.

And the senior whose apartment I was crashing at used me as a standin for his girlfriend and didn't even drop a single word of apology.

Chloe crawled under the covers and threw an arm around me like a koala. "Whatever.

If we both end up dying alone, we can just be crazy cat ladies together." Three days into crashing at Chloe's place, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Graham. [Clara, we still haven't seen that movie.

You free today?] I paced back and forth across the bedroom, my fingers gripping my phone tight. "Just tell him no," Chloe said. Graham had helped me out a lot with campus stuff.

I couldn't just blow him off. Besides, he hadn't actually done anything creepy to me yet. Would flatout rejecting him be a massive overreaction?

Chloe let out a heavy sigh. "You care way too much about what other people think.

It's gonna get you into trouble." I rolled across the mattress, completely zoned out, and tapped my phone screen to check my messages. My stomach dropped.

The screen was still open to my chat with Alistair. At the very bottom, a sent message sat in a bright green bubble: Hook up? It was a meme Chloe had sent me a few days ago.

My thumb must have accidentally hit forward. Panic seized my chest. I frantically jammed my finger against the screen to unsend it, but I hit 'Delete for me' instead.

The blood drained from my face. I collapsed facefirst into the pillows, my eyes burning. A split second later, an incoming call took over the screen. Alistair.

Staring at his name flashing across the display, I wished the floor would crack open and swallow me whole. My hand was shaking as I swiped to answer.

Alistair's low, gravelly voice vibrated through the speaker. "Where to?" My brain shortcircuited. "No, no, I didn't—" "Clara, you should totally wear this dress to the movies this afternoon.

It's guaranteed to completely lock him down." Chloe casually pushed the bedroom door open, holding up a pale yellow sundress.

Every syllable she said carried through the phone's microphone. Dead silence stretched over the line. Then, Alistair spoke. "I'm buying the tickets.

I'll send you the time and location." Click. I stared at the dark phone screen, my scalp prickling with sheer panic.

Ten minutes later, Chloe looked at my pale, completely defeated face and offered a solution. "You haven't even told Graham yes yet, right?

Just raincheck him." Like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline, I immediately opened my chat with Graham and started typing. "Graham, I'm so sorry, but I—" Ping!

A new message banner dropped down from the top of the screen. Graham had sent a screenshot. "2:00 PM, Starlight Cinemas, Theater 1.

First Love Diaries." My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I stared at the halftyped rejection in the text box, losing the nerve to press send.

Chapter 8 Chloe tried to comfort me. "Alistair hasn't booked anything yet. Just stagger the times." [Ping!] [Alistair: 2:00 PM, Starlight Cinemas, Theater 3.

Flipped.] I buried my face in my hands and collapsed back onto the sofa, letting out a heavy groan.

Chloe practically slapped her knee, thoroughly enjoying the show. "Clara, my crystal ball says you're about to get destroyed by your own love life." "I'm just not going to go… my stomach hurts…" Chloe narrowed her eyes. "Think about it.

What if they run into each other at the theater, start talking, and realize you ghosted both of them at the exact same time?" "Then I've effectively pissed them both off," I stated dryly.

I chewed on my lower lip, grabbed my phone with a heavy sigh, and opened the AMC app.

Chloe leaned over curiously. "What are you doing?" "Damage control." Her eyes went wide. "A midnight horror screening? Are you insane?" "It's the only showtime left.

If I'm paying, they can't exactly complain…" Chloe sat right next to me. "You and Graham aren't official yet, right?" "No." If you didn't count the time Alistair caught me calling him babe on Snapchat, we weren't even really in the talking phase. "And you and Alistair aren't official either, right?" What the hell?

If you ignored that completely accidental kiss in the alley, we barely even knew each other.

Chloe nodded in satisfaction. "So, a generous underclassman treating two respected seniors to a horror movie. Is there a problem with that?" My eyes were practically glazed over.

I nodded along. "Sounds logical." Chloe snapped her fingers. "Let's go." At 2:00 PM, wearing the pale yellow sundress Chloe picked out for me, I stood in front of Starlight Cinemas.

After picking up the tickets, I kept looking around in every direction. The ticket stubs clutched in my hand were already damp with sweat. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder.

I spun around to a massive bucket of popcorn. Graham wore a crisp white buttondown, goldrimmed glasses resting casually on the bridge of his nose.

He offered a soft smile. "Clara, you look beautiful today." Heat rushed to my cheeks. "Thanks, Graham." "It's getting late.

Let's head inside." Graham took my small crossbody bag and gestured toward the entrance.

I tried to stop him. "Graham… wait…" "Hey—" A freezing voice dragged out slowly from my left. "Clara, you made plans with someone else?" I flinched, instinctively taking a fast step back to put distance between myself and Graham. "Alistair.

You're here…" Alistair stood there emptyhanded, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up casually.

The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting scattered, golden light across his messy black hair.

He briefly glanced at the popcorn in my hands before lifting his eyes to Graham. "You asked her out?" Graham pushed up his glasses, admitting it slowly and deliberately. "Yeah.

I'm trying to lock her down." I froze in place. Alistair's gaze was piercing, and the air around us instantly dropped below freezing. Alistair let out a cold scoff. "Too bad.

Her family doesn't allow it." "That's fine." Graham's lips curved into a polite smile. "Feelings take time to build anyway." Alistair pulled two tickets out of his pocket and shoved them into my hand. "Finish the movie early.

Then you're coming home with me." "Alistair, what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Chapter 9 Alistair's lips curved up. "Oh… forgot to introduce you. She's my kid.

If you want to go after her, you have to get through me first.

After all, feelings take time to build." Graham paused, his voice remaining totally smooth. "Then please do me a favor, Alistair, and let me watch a movie with her." "Not a chance—" Seeing they were about to fight, I nervously raised my trembling hand, clutching the three tickets. "Stop fighting," I mumbled timidly. "I'm… treating you both to a movie." Dead silence dropped over us for a second.

Alistair narrowed his eyes. "Watching what?" "Midnight Terror." "…" Alistair shot Graham a sideways look. "You game?" "I'll stay till the credits roll." I trailed behind the two heavyweights, trying to make myself invisible.

Passing the concession stand, Alistair casually walked over and exchanged a few words with the cashier.

A minute later, he strolled back carrying a massive silver bag that reached his knees and tossed it at me. A sharp rustling sound came from inside.

I jerked my head up, shooting him a confused look. Alistair snatched the standard popcorn bucket right out of my hands. "Figured you wouldn't have enough.

Upgraded it." Graham's lips twitched slightly.

He turned back to me. "Clara, it's time to head in." I never thought there would be a day where I'd be sandwiched between two guys in a movie theater watching a horror movie.

The air was so thick and heavy it was suffocating. I never watched horror movies, but at 2:00 PM, I didn't have a choice. I gripped the popcorn bag tight.

As the jump scares hit one after another, I shrank lower and lower into my seat until my face was practically buried in the silver bag, my eyes squeezed shut.

A low, faint scoff vibrated right next to my ear. Alistair leaned in, his breath hitting the side of my neck. "Scared?

You should have just been a good girl and watched the romance movie with me." I fired back immediately. "Who wants to watch a romance movie with you?" A deafening scream exploded from the surround sound speakers right above my head.

I flinched violently, my hand blindly grabbing the armrest. Except the armrest wasn't cold or hard plastic. I slowly lowered my head. I was deathgripping Alistair's hand.

Right at that exact second, something warm and soft pressed against the sides of my head. Graham had reached over in the dark, his hands firmly covering both my ears.

The three of us froze in that weird, twisted position in the pitch black. Alistair locked eyes with Graham over my head.

The tension in the air practically crackled with static electricity. I realized I couldn't pull my hand back.

Alistair used the distraction to completely wrap his large palm around my fingers, smoothly dragging my hand right into his jacket pocket.

Once my hand was trapped, he threw a raised eyebrow at Graham. The look clearly said: Keep holding her ears if you want. Let's see how long your arms last.

The movie dragged on for two and a half hours. For the second half, I forced myself to act calm, and Graham finally slowly dropped his hands.

But Alistair didn't show a single sign of letting go. I sat there burning up for the entire two and a half hours.

The second the credits rolled, I shot up from my seat. "Let's go home." Graham suddenly caught sight of someone in the distance. "Clara, I can't take you home today.

See you around." My brain was still numb from the movie. I just gave him a quick wave.

Alistair grabbed the massive popcorn bag. "Where are you heading?" "Chloe's place." Like hell I was going back with him.

If he decided to rip into me for booking a date with both of them at the same time, I'd be dead meat. Alistair gave a single nod. "Let's go.

I'll drop you off." Chapter 10 "N… no thanks…" "Oh… as long as you are not scared." The second he said that, the jump scares from the movie flashed through my brain.

I immediately caved. "Thanks." Chloe's apartment complex wasn't far. We cut through a densely treelined street and walked another ten minutes before stopping under her building.

Usually, the lights in her unit were the brightest on the block. But right now, I stared up at the pitchblack windows. The place was empty. Did I have to move back? "What?

No keys?" Alistair looked down and dug through his pockets for a second. He pulled out a white fox keychain that looked out of place in his hands.

The fluffy tail swayed back and forth, a single small key hanging from its neck. "Yours. You are sleeping at my place tonight." I recognized the plush charm.

It was from a boutique accessory shop I really liked. Alistair had actually gone out and made me a spare set of keys.

Right on cue, Chloe's text popped up: Babe, my grandma is sick so I can't head home tonight. Where are you? I can drop the keys off to you.

That meant tonight I would have to face an entirely empty apartment and the fresh memory of that horror movie all by myself.

I texted Chloe back: No worries, I will just crash at a relative's place. Chloe: Oh, the older family friend you mentioned before? Is he hot? I quietly slid a glance at Alistair.

He was literally the most chased guy on campus. What did she think? The sky darkened. The street was packed with couples paired off everywhere.

Some local mall was throwing a huge outdoor festival tonight, making the sidewalks insanely crowded. To get home, we had to cut straight through the event Lovers' Lane setup.

I stuck extremely close behind Alistair, my eyes deadlocked on his back to avoid looking at the couples aggressively making out all around us.

Alistair acted like it was a completely normal day.

He occasionally stopped and asked, "Want this?" I stared at the Couples' Sundae sign on the food truck, my face burning as I shook my head, silently praying he would walk faster.

Rounding a corner, my feet suddenly locked in place.

In a dark alley untouched by the neon festival lights, Graham had someone pressed hard against the brick wall, aggressively kissing her.

A gust of wind blew past, carrying a sharp, painfully familiar perfume straight to me. That was… wasn't she Alistair's… The entire world went dead silent for a second.

It suddenly hit me. Alistair just got cheated on. And I… also… wait, what? Alistair reacted way faster than I did.

He grabbed my arm, whipped around, and dragged me in the opposite direction, leaving the noise of the crowd far behind. The walk back was suffocating.

It was hard to say which of us was more pathetic right now. "Want a drink?" he suddenly asked. "Yeah." Sugar was supposed to make you feel better.

Under the circumstances, keeping my mouth shut and agreeing was the smartest move. "Two hot pistachio lattes." Alistair walked up to a random cafe counter.

It was a super niche order. None of my roommates could stand the taste.

I didn't expect Alistair to have the exact same weird preference, or that he'd even find a place selling it here. "Um… I want it iced—" "No.

Hot." Alistair cut me off with absolute finality. Walking the rest of the way, I trailed behind him, aggressively typing a rant to Chloe. He is so damn controlling… Chloe: Who?

Me: The family friend. Chloe texted back: Whatever. Isn't your period about to start? Just chill out. I paused. Is it? Chloe: Please. Our cycles are literally synced.

Mine just started, so you are next. Chapter 11 I sent a crying dog meme. Chloe suddenly texted back: Wait, is there any chance he knows about your period?

Oh my god… No way… I'm always super careful and clean everything up. Please, Clara. If we were spies, you'd literally be the first one caught. The conversation hit a dead end.

After a long pause, I typed: I still don't think it's possible. [If that's actually true…] Chloe added: Then he's basically a massive creep… I didn't fully agree with her.

Maybe it was because my mom told him to watch out for me, so Alistair just took care of me and happened to notice my cycle— I stared at Alistair's back for a long time, completely failing to convince myself.

Yup, he's just a twotiming massive creep. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice Alistair stopping. I slammed right into his back.

If it weren't for a hand catching my waist from behind, I would have completely wiped out. "Careful." Graham's voice was perfectly smooth, effortlessly charming as always.

Holding the two hot lattes, I spun around. Remembering the alley scene from earlier, I forced out an awkward greeting. "What a coincidence, Graham.

What are you doing here?" He smiled warmly. "Just around the area. Saw you." I quietly took a step back, hiding in the shadow of Alistair's broad back.

I didn't want to have anything to do with that liar ever again. Graham pointed at the cups in my hands. "Nice choice.

I love those." Alistair smoothly cut in, his face deadpan. "Clara, I'm thirsty." "Huh?" He casually hooked one of the hot lattes from my grip, locking eyes with Graham. "What a coincidence.

I like them too." The air instantly thickened, heavy with static.

Not wanting to become collateral damage, I held out the remaining cup to Graham. "Graham, you—" A large hand shot down from above, clamping over my second cup.

Alistair didn't blink. "My bad. One isn't enough." Graham kept a faint smile, staring right at Alistair. "It's fine, Clara.

I'll treat you." "No, no, no, I should be treating you." It suddenly hit me that I was basically just caught in the crossfire.

They were both fighting over that hot upperclassman… Standing out in the unexpectedly warm night, all I wanted was heavy air conditioning.

Graham blocked me from the counter and paid the barista. The barista's eyes darted between the three of us. She let out a laugh. "What's going on with pistachio lattes tonight?

Is it a trend?" Graham took the iced latte and handed it to me. "It's warm out.

Cool down." The ice cubes clinked happily against the plastic cup, a sharp contrast to the suffocating night. I hesitated.

Iced drinks were great, but period cramps were literal hell. Alistair leaned against the food truck, taking a slow sip of his hot latte. "She doesn't drink iced.

At least, not lately." With that one sentence, I made my final conclusion. He absolutely knew. A flash of surprise crossed Graham's eyes.

He smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't ask—" "It's totally fine, Graham." Alistair was staring at his phone screen, texting someone.

After a second, he shifted his weight impatiently. "Right. Are we done here?" "Yeah, I'm done," I answered automatically.

Alistair's tone dropped, turning sharp. "I wasn't asking you." The message was clear. He was telling Graham to get lost. Chapter 12 Graham's phone buzzed.

He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, took a step back, and gave me a slight wave. "Clara, see you tomorrow." Alistair's jaw was tight.

He kept his grip on my drink the entire walk back. On the way, I pulled out my phone and texted Chloe. Am I really that awful? Why would you ask that?

It's just… it feels like nobody is ever going to actually like me. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. I deleted the entire sentence and typed: Never mind.

Seeing my classmates constantly hooking up, my desperation for a real relationship had grown completely out of control.

My freshman year, I made a solid resolution to finally start dating. But every time I found someone I liked, they suddenly ended up with a girlfriend.

It had become a completely unbreakable curse. Graham was the exact same. He had literally just stolen Alistair's girlfriend.

Had crashing at his apartment somehow infected him with my horrible luck? Before I knew it, we were back at the apartment.

Pushing the door open, Alistair dropped his keys on the console. "Spend the rest of the break focusing on your Calculus class.

Drop the dating bullshit." "Okay…" "Starting tomorrow, I'm personally tutoring you." My breath hitched. I dug my nails into my palms to stop myself from bolting out the door.

Alistair's academic record was legendary on campus. He was the only person to ever score a perfect 100 in Advanced Calculus.

Someone once managed to get their hands on his notes, only to realize they looked like gibberish. I didn't want him to treat me like an idiot.

After that, my life turned into a neverending cycle of waking up at dawn to grind through Calculus.

After being forced back into the single life, Alistair became a ruthless dictator. I was practically taping my eyelids open just to keep up with his pace. His logic was razorsharp.

With just a few words, he could instantly break down the most complicated formulas. Seeing his brain work in realtime forced me to grind even harder.

In the blink of an eye, it was the week before the fall semester started. Alistair suddenly got insanely busy, leaving early in the morning and coming back late at night.

That afternoon, I was sitting on the sofa submitting the online application for our sorority events. Click. The front door pushed open. Alistair walked in.

The brutal heatwave had been boiling the city for days. Alistair wore a thin white buttondown. It clung slightly to his chest from the sweat, the tips of his dark hair damp.

Our eyes locked. Seeing him like that, a sudden heat rushed to my cheeks.

I snapped my laptop shut and sat up completely straight. "Alistair." Alistair gave a curt nod and walked straight into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, the heavy sound of the shower running mixed with the low hum of the washing machine.

I quickly finished the sorority form, hit submit, set my laptop aside, and pulled out my Calculus textbook.

I stared at the page for five solid minutes, but none of the numbers were registering in my brain.

Right then, a sharp knock hit the bathroom door from the inside. "Clara, where did you put the towels?" Alistair's voice echoed through the wood. My stomach dropped.

I suddenly remembered that after washing my hair this morning, I had tossed all the towels and dirty clothes straight into the wash.

They were currently hanging out on the balcony, completely wet. I jogged over.

Through the frosted glass door, I could perfectly see the tall, broad silhouette of Alistair's body, the warm backlight tracing the hard lines of his shoulders.

I swallowed hard. "I washed them." "What about the bathrobes?" "Those… too…" "So you want me to walk out naked?" The bathroom door cracked open. Alistair's hand reached out.

Heavy veins tracked across the back of his knuckles, slick with water droplets catching the light.

Chapter 13 An irrational panic spiked in my chest. "Don't… don't come out!" "If you're so scared, then hurry up and get me some clothes." "Where are your clothes?" "Bedroom." He added, "Top drawer of the dresser.

Keep your eyes to yourself." I took a deep breath and pushed open Alistair's bedroom door.

The gray curtains were neatly tied back, the large bed was made without a single wrinkle, and the air was thick with the sharp, freezing scent of his mint body wash.

There was a massive closet right in plain sight. I followed his orders and opened the top drawer.

Since the sliding panels were partially open, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of some… other things. "Clara, hurry up, or I'm walking out." Panicking at his threat, I blindly grabbed a random sleep shirt and pants, sprinted back, and shoved them through the crack in the door.

A few minutes later, the door swung open. I ducked my head out of habit to apologize, but his hand suddenly shot out. His long fingers clamped under my chin, forcing my head up.

His expression was completely deadpan. "Tomorrow, I'm buying an open storage rack.

The bathrobes are staying outside." Usually, the bathrobes were kept in the cabinet above the washing machine.

Alistair was so used to living alone that it hadn't even crossed his mind that the cabinet would be empty. "Sorry…" The tips of my ears burned hot.

I tried to pull back, but Alistair didn't show a single sign of letting me go.

He kept his grip firmly on my jaw, dragging me backward from the bathroom door all the way into the living room. "My neck hurts… You're way too tall.

Why do you have to keep my head forced up like this?" A dark, mockingly cold smile ghosted across his lips. "Do you not check the sizes when you grab clothes?" "Huh?" "Those are my pajamas from middle school." I froze, and then my cheeks became uncontrollably hot.

The size was wrong… And… I completely forgot to grab his underwear… Alistair leaned down, his shadow completely swallowing me.

His voice dragged out, slow and deliberate. "Thanks to you, I've got plenty of ventilation." He was standing dangerously close.

The clean, sharp scent of his shampoo wrapped tightly around my senses, sending my pulse hammering against my ribs.

Just as my brain completely shortcircuited, he suddenly released his grip, stepped swiftly inside, and shut his bedroom door.

The sudden loss of his hold made my head snap down slightly. My eyes fell directly onto the floor. The polished marble tiles were as clear as a mirror.

I stood paralyzed for a full ten seconds before covering my burning face with both hands. It was like I had just unlocked a forbidden dimension.

From that day on, I avoided Alistair. I would rather desperately beg randoms online for Calculus help than take a single word of advice from him.

My mom called a few times during that period, nagging me to listen to Alistair, reminding me that he was older and knew better, and telling me to stop acting like a brat.

I just nodded along perfectly. A few days before the fall semester officially started, our class president organized a massive backtoschool party.

Chloe, who had been completely off the grid for weeks, suddenly showed up. "Come on! You've been cooped up all summer.

Let's go blow off some steam." The location was an outdoor rental villa. It wasn't far from campus, mainly catering to the heavy college crowd.

Everyone was tightly packed around the massive grill, hyped up.

Because the bonfire party ran out of ice, the job of running to the convenience store to buy more ice fell on me and Chloe.

The rental property district had a wide, paved road lined with massive, towering trees. Behind the thick green hedges, a wide river cut straight through the city limits.

The sun hadn't even set yet, but all the outdoor party villas were already completely packed