Chapter 2- Library Sparks

WESLEY’S POV

“Damn, that girl has fire.”

I watched Samantha storm down the library aisle, her curly hair bouncing with every angry step. My mouth still curved up even though she had just torn into me like I was nothing. Most girls smiled, flirted, or at least pretended to like me. But it wasn’t the same with her. She looked ready to slap me and then maybe kiss me right after.

I leaned back against the table she had just cleared, arms crossed. My blood felt hotter than it should after a simple argument. That spark when our hands touched? Yeah, I felt it too. And the way her cheeks flushed when I got close? Priceless.

“Adams, you coming or what?” my teammate, Jake, called from two tables over, packing up his notes. “Practice is early tomorrow, man.”

“Yeah, give me a minute,” I muttered, still staring at the spot where Samantha disappeared.

I grabbed my own bag and headed out into the damp Manchester night. Light rain hit my face as I crossed the path toward the sports block. But my head wasn’t on basketball drills. It was on her. Samantha Williams. Proper little literature girl with that sharp tongue and those brown eyes that didn’t back down.

Why the hell did that turn me on so much?

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick text to one of the usual girls who liked to hang around after games. Then I deleted it before sending. I wasn’t feeling it tonight. That was weird.

The image of Samantha biting her lip while trying not to snap at me kept flashing back. She had run out of her room looking all bothered and flushed. I wasn’t stupid. Thin walls in those hostels meant one thing.

She probably heard somebody getting fucked good and proper, and instead of handling it like most people, she ran to the library like a good little student. That made me want to know what she sounded like when she finally let go.

I shook my head and jogged the rest of the way to my off-campus flat. The boys were already there, sprawled on the couch with beers and takeaway.

“Look who finally showed up,” Donald Brook said, grinning as he tossed me a cold can. “Heard you were chatting up some girl in the library. Is she one of your regulars?”

I caught the can and popped it open. Donald was my teammate, a solid guy, always the responsible one. We competed on the court but stayed cool off it.

“Not a regular,” I said, taking a long drink. “New girl. Samantha Williams. Literature chick. Proper wound up tight.”

Donald raised an eyebrow. “Williams? The one with the curly hair and serious face? She’s in my ethics class. She’s smart and always prepared.”

Something twisted in my chest. Of course Donald already knew her name. He had always noticed shit like that.

“Yeah, well… she told me to stay away from her,” I said with a laugh, but it came out sharper than I meant.

“I knocked her notes on the floor by accident, and she went off on me like I killed her dog.”

Jake laughed from the kitchen. “Classic Wesley. You chase the ones who hate you first.”

“I don’t chase anybody,” I shot back. But even as I said it, I knew I was lying. Something about the way Samantha looked at me stuck. Like she saw straight through the basketball star bullshit and still got affected. Her voice got all breathy when she told me to back off.

I dropped onto the couch and kicked my feet up.

“She’s different though. Got this fire. And that body? She’s hiding it under baggy hoodies but you can tell it’s there.”

Donald gave me a long look. “Leave her alone if she’s focused on studies, man. Some girls aren’t for your games.”

“Who said anything about games?” I replied, smirking.

“Maybe I just want to see if I can make her loosen up a bit.”

The conversation moved on to tomorrow’s practice and the upcoming match, but my mind kept drifting back. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her glaring up at me, chest rising fast, lips parted. I wanted to hear her say my name like that. Angry. Breathless.

Later that night after the lads left, I lay in bed scrolling through I*******m. I searched her name. Not many public posts, but I found one from last semester.

Samantha smiling shyly at some literature event, holding a book. Cute. Too cute.

My hand slid down under the sheets without thinking. I pictured her in that library corner, cheeks flushed the same way they probably were when she heard those moans through the wall. What would she do if I pinned her against those bookshelves and kissed that smart mouth quiet?

I groaned low, stroking myself harder. Fuck. This was new. I didn’t obsess over girls who told me to fuck off. But Samantha? I already wanted more of that attitude. Wanted to watch it crack.

The next morning I got to the sports centre early. Rain pounded harder now, typical Manchester. I was doing warm-up laps when I spotted a familiar figure hurrying along the path toward the main academic block, hood up against the weather.

Samantha.

She moved fast, clutching her bag like it owed her money. I slowed my run, watching. She must have an early lecture. Without thinking, I changed direction and jogged over, cutting her off near the covered walkway.

“Morning, sweetheart,” I called out.

She stopped dead, pulling her hood back. Those big brown eyes widened, then narrowed instantly. “You.”

“Yeah, me.” I grinned, wiping rain from my face. Water dripped down my neck. “Told you you’d see me around.”

Samantha adjusted her bag strap, clearly annoyed. But her gaze flicked over my damp t-shirt sticking to my chest for half a second. “Do you always stalk girls who tell you to leave them alone?”

“Only the interesting ones.” I stepped closer, under the cover. “You sleep okay last night? Looked pretty worked up when you left the library.”

Her cheeks went pink. She glanced around like she was scared someone might hear. “What I do at night is none of your business, Wesley.”

God, I loved how she said my name. Like a curse and a secret at the same time.

I leaned one shoulder against the pillar. “Are you always this defensive? Or did something in your room get you all hot and bothered before you ran into me?”

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “You are unbelievable. Has anyone ever told you how arrogant you sound?”

“Daily,” I said, laughing low. “But most people enjoy it.”

“Well I don’t,” she tried to step past me, but I shifted just enough to stay in her way. Not blocking her, just… close. Her scent hit me. Something light and sweet, mixed with rain.

“Are you sure about that?” I asked, voice dropping.

“Because the way you’re looking at me right now says otherwise.”

Samantha met my eyes directly. I saw challenge there. Heat too. “Move, Wesley. I have a lecture and I don’t need distractions from cocky athletes who can’t keep their hands off other people’s notes.”

I held her gaze. My pulse kicked up. Part of me wanted to pull her into the nearest empty room and find out exactly how much she hated me. The rest of me just wanted to keep her talking.

“Have dinner with me tonight,” I said suddenly. The words surprised even me.

She blinked. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on. One meal. I promise I’ll behave,” I said, giving her the smile that usually worked. “Unless you ask me not to.”

Samantha stared at me for a long moment. Her lips parted like she was about to say something sharp. Then her phone buzzed loudly in her bag. She checked it quickly.

“Shit, I’m late.” She looked back at me, eyes flashing. “Stay away from me, Wesley Adams. I mean it.”

She brushed past me, our arms touching. That same stupid spark shot through me again. I turned and watched her rush away, hips moving under that hoodie, curls bouncing.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself, running a hand through my wet hair.

I was already in deep. And I hadn’t even tasted her yet.

As I headed back to practice, my phone lit up with a message from Donald.

*Donald: Hey, you know that Samantha girl? I think I’m gonna ask her to grab coffee after ethics later. She seems cool.*

My grip tightened on the phone. Coffee. With Donald. The safe, nice guy.

Something dark twisted in my stomach. No fucking way.

I typed back fast.

*Me: Do what you want, bro.*

But inside, I already knew I wouldn’t let that happen easily. Samantha Williams had gotten under my skin in one night. And I was nowhere near done with her.