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Chapter 5
publish date:
2026-05-13 18:34:35Maxime;
My phone starts buzzing on the nightstand hard enough to rattle the glass of water beside it, and the sound drills straight into my skull. I barely register the warm weight sprawled across my stomach—Simone starfished across my bed like she pays rent here—the morning light cutting through the blinds, or the smell of coffee drifting through the apartment. The buzzing keeps going. Persistent. Annoyingly confident. Across the room, Troy’s already awake because apparently he was born forty years old. He’s sitting at the desk in sweatpants with his laptop open, coffee in hand, hair still damp from a shower. I genuinely don’t trust people who function this early. Simone groans into my side without opening her eyes. “If Connor McLeod is blowing up your phone before noon, you better answer it. I deserve entertainment.” I reach blindly for my phone, nearly knocking it onto the floor before catching it at the last second. New Snap from Connor McLeod. Just seeing his name sends a stupid rush through my chest. I’m suddenly way too awake. Last night had felt easy somehow—flirting, snapping him back, pretending I wasn’t seconds away from combusting every time he texted me. But now? In daylight? My brain’s catching up to the fact that Connor McLeod is real and apparently interested in me. Which feels medically suspicious. Troy glances over the rim of his mug. “That bad?” Simone lifts her head immediately. “Oh my God, it is Connor. Open it right now.” “You people are parasites.” “And yet here we are,” she says cheerfully. I open the snap before I can lose my nerve. Connor fills the screen instantly. He’s lying in bed, sheets low on his waist, bare chest on display like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His hair’s a mess, flattened on one side, and his eyes look dark and heavy with sleep. Which should honestly be illegal. He smirks a little at the camera. “Morning, Hater,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “You still thinking about me, or should I work harder?” The snap ends. I just stare at my screen like my brain stopped buffering. Behind me, Simone grabs my pillow and screams directly into it. “Oh, he’s EVIL,” she says dramatically. “That voice? Absolutely not. I would’ve folded instantly.” Troy snorts into his coffee. “You already would’ve folded instantly.” “That’s not the point.” I throw my phone onto the blanket before it can burn through my hand. “He’s so annoying.” Simone gasps. “You like him.” “I do not.” “You absolutely do. Your ears are red.” “It’s hot in here.” “It is literally raining outside.” I groan and drag my hands down my face, which only makes both of them laugh harder. The memories from last night come rushing back at the worst possible moment—Connor’s hands gripping my waist, his mouth against my neck, the way he looked at me like he already knew I was done for. Troy leans back in his chair. “Okay, but seriously. What do you actually want from this?” I blink at him. “What kind of question is that?” “A real one.” Simone points at him accusingly. “Don’t start being emotionally intelligent before breakfast. It’s upsetting.” Troy ignores her. “I’m just saying Connor has a reputation.” “Yeah,” I mutter. “I know.” “And?” “And nothing.” I grab my phone again mostly so I have something to do with my hands. “It’s not serious.” Simone hums skeptically. “That sounded fake.” Before I can defend myself, another message pops up. Connor: You working tonight? Then immediately after— Connor: If not, I can come to your dorm. Connor: Or you can come to mine. My stomach flips so fast it’s embarrassing. Simone practically climbs over me trying to read the screen. “OH MY GOD.” “You’re invasive.” “You’re blushing again.” Troy shakes his head slowly. “You are absolutely cooked.” I flop backward onto the mattress with a groan, staring at the ceiling while Simone keeps laughing at me. Around me, the apartment settles into its usual rhythm—Troy typing away at his notes, Simone humming while stealing my blanket, coffee brewing somewhere in the kitchen. And me? I’m lying there trying not to smile like an idiot because Connor McLeod wants to see me again. Which is probably a terrible idea. Unfortunately, terrible ideas are starting to sound really good.
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