007

Astrid’s POV

No way this is happening.

This must be a dream or my imagination. It clearly can't be reality.

My phone stayed warm in my hand long after I had read his message.

I didn't want to but I found myself replaying his message in my head over and over again.

My heart started racing, loud and uneven, like it was trying to escape my chest.

Dawn was leaning over my shoulder now as she was practically breathing down my neck.

“Well?” she drawled.

“I’m not going,” I said automatically, pushing myself to my feet.

In no time, my fingers started pulling clothes out like my body had already made a decision my brain was too stubborn to admit.

Dawn who was watching my every move squealed. “You’re going!”

“I am not going on a date,” I snapped, yanking a hoodie over my head. “I’m just… going downstairs to talk to him so he stops bothering me.”

“Mhm,” she hummed.

I ignored her, dragging on a pair of baggy sweatpants. My outfit was the complete opposite of what she had wanted me to wear.

“This,” she said dramatically, gesturing at me like I had committed a crime against fashion, “is not how you dress for a date with Ocean Rhett.”

“It’s not a date,” I insisted, tying my hair into a messy bun with shaking hands.

“You could at least try to look…”

“I am trying to get him off my back,” I cut in.

She paused then smirked slowly. “You keep telling yourself that.”

Rolling my eyes at her, I grabbed my phone and headed for the door before she could say anything else.

“Astrid!” She called after me. “If you come back engaged, I want credit!”

“Snap off it.” I groaned and slammed the door behind me.

The hallway felt too narrow, too bright and too loud with the sound of my own footsteps.

My pulse pounded in my ears as I rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

What was I doing?

Why was I nervous?

I wasn’t excited, I just needed to set boundaries.

I’m going to tell him to stop and make it clear that this fake relationship nonsense wasn’t happening.

It was supposed to be simple, easy and totally manageable except that my stomach felt like it was full of butterflies with knives for wings.

The night air hit me the second I stepped outside, cool and sharp against my skin. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself as I scanned the area.

Students lingered in small groups, laughing and talking, but there was no sign of him.

No tall figure leaning casually against a car, no ocean blue eyes watching me like he already knew what I was thinking.

I frowned, shifting my weight.

“Maybe he wasn’t coming after all.” I mumbled as relief flickered through me followed immediately by something else I refused to examine too closely.

Self aware, I checked my phone but there were no new messages.

“Of course,” I muttered under my breath. “He probably forgot.”

I turned toward the dorm entrance, ready to go back upstairs and pretend this whole thing had never happened but then a car horn sounded behind me.

I jumped, spinning around so fast that my bun almost loosening.

And there he was.

Ocean leaning casually out of the driver’s side window of a sleek black car parked near the corner.

He had one hand resting on the wheel while he lifted the other in a lazy wave.

My heart did something stupid and completely traitorous.

Tonight, Ocean Rhett looked unfairly good.

The streetlights caught in his dark hair, the shadows sharpening the angles of his face. Even from a distance, that scar traced across his skin like a dangerous secret.

I hated that I noticed.

Taking in a deep breath, I walked toward him slowly, trying to look unaffected even though my pulse kept speeding up with every step.

Nice car, my brain supplied unhelpfully.

Before I could stop myself, I slowed slightly, admiring the clean lines and the glossy finish reflecting the lights around us.

“Like what you see?” his voice asked from much closer than I expected.

I looked up only then did I realize that he was standing right in front of me.

How had he moved that fast?

“I…” I started, then snapped my mouth shut.

He smiled faintly, clearly amused and then, without warning, he reached out and took my hand.

The contact sent a jolt through me. It was warm, firm and possessive.

“Ocean,” I hissed under my breath, trying to pull away. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to the car,” he said simply.

“People are staring.” I muttered, still trying to pull away but he won't let go.

“Good,” he said instead and I stiffened.

“Let them,” he added, his fingers tightening slightly around mine as if he was daring me to fight him.

Every step felt surreal as eyes followed us and whispers started almost immediately.

My skin burned.

I tried to tug my hand free again. “This is unnecessary.” I groaned.

“You came down,” he said instead.

“That doesn’t mean I agreed to anything.”

He opened the passenger door for me without replying.

When I hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. “Planning to stand there all night?”

I huffed and slid into the seat quickly, grateful for the privacy once the door closed behind me.

The interior smelled faintly like leather and something distinctly him.

He walked around to the driver’s side and got in, the space suddenly feeling smaller when he was inside it.

My phone beeped.

It was a message from Dawn so I didn’t bother opening it.

The moment I lifted my gaze, I locked eyes with him immediately.

Ocean’s blue gaze held mine steadily, unreadable and intense enough to make my stomach twist that I almost forgot to breathe.

“You look like you’re preparing for a hostage negotiation,” he said dryly.

“Excuse me?” I huffed, rolling my eyes.

He gestured toward my hoodie and sweatpants. “Not exactly date attire.”

“It’s not a date,” I shot back instantly. “And I dressed like this on purpose.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Because I’m here to talk not… whatever you think this is.”

He hummed softly, turning the key in the ignition but not pulling away yet.

“You’re adorable when you’re defensive,” he said.

“I am not adorable.”

“You’re wearing my vest’s cousin,” he said, glancing at my oversized hoodie.

“If you have a problem with what I’m wearing, you can drop me off right now.” I was glaring murderously at him now.

Leaning into his chair, he chuckled under his breath, the sound low and warm.

“I don’t have a problem,” he said. “I just like seeing you uncomfortable.”

Smacking his lips, he continued. “Even if I do have a problem, I won't make a fuss. I will fix it instead.”

I opened my mouth to argue but before I could say a word, I felt his hand, warm and heavy, settling slowly onto my thigh.

Everything inside me froze.

And my breath seized.