008

Astrid’s POV

The moment his hand touched my thigh, every thought in my head crashed into silence.

Without a second thought, I pushed his hand off, my palm hitting his wrist harder than I intended.

“Don’t,” I snapped, turning toward the window as if the passing streetlights were suddenly fascinating.

Ocean didn’t flinch, he simply withdrew his hand, resting it back on the steering wheel like nothing had happened.

“I meant no harm,” he said calmly.

His voice was low. He was not defensive or apologetic and that somehow annoyed me more.

“Fine,” I muttered and he nodded once, his eyes still on the road.

“Seatbelt.” The word came out firm, like an instruction.

“I know how to…” I was going to argue.

“Astrid,” he interrupted gently but firmly, glancing at me briefly. “Fasten your seatbelt.”

I rolled my eyes but reached for it anyway, tugging the strap across my chest with unnecessary force.

The click that followed echoed loudly in the quiet car.

Satisfied, he nodded slightly.

Outside, the city moved like a living organism but inside the car it felt like we were suspended in some strange, private bubble.

“So,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter now. “Have you eaten dinner?”

“No.”

“Did you have lunch?” he sounded like he already knew the answer so I hesitated before answering.

“…No.”

Rubbing his forehead, he sighed softly. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself.”

“And you’re terrible at minding your business.” I retorted, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled under his breath, clearly amused. “Noted.”

Sucking my teeth, I folded my arms, staring out the window.

I could feel his gaze flick toward me occasionally, like he was studying me without wanting me to notice which, of course, made me notice more.

I shouldn’t be here.

That thought repeated itself like a warning bell in my head.

Ocean was Reis’s rival, that alone should have been enough to keep me far away.

Back when I was dating Reis, Ocean’s name was always said with tension. He was always a competitor, an annoyance and someone dangerous to trust.

So why was I sitting in his car?

Why had I even come downstairs when he called?

I watched the reflection of his face in the side mirror. His sharp jaw, calm eyes and an almost infuriating composure was too prominent to miss.

He was driving with one hand loosely on the wheel and relaxed like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Meanwhile, my brain kept spinning scenarios.

What if someone saw us?

What if Ocean was just trying to prove something?

Or worse, what if I didn’t hate this as much as I should?

I swallowed and turned away, annoyed at myself.

“You’re staring,” he said casually.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m watching the traffic,” I shot back.

“There’s nothing interesting about traffic.”

“Then why are you watching it too?”

He laughed softly, the sound settling somewhere warm in my chest before I could stop it.

It was annoying.

Scowling, I shifted in my seat, trying to put more distance between us even though the space hadn’t changed.

“You don’t actually hate me,” he said suddenly.

“Excuse me?” I blinked only to fix my gaze on him.

“You think you do,” he corrected. “But you don’t.”

“Oh, I absolutely do.” I challenged with a loud huff.

Smirking, he cast me a quick glance, then said, “Give me one real reason.”

“You’re Reis’s rival.” I bit out at once.

“That’s not your reason, that’s his.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it because he was right and I hated that.

I searched for something else, anything to prove that I really hated him and when I did, I blurted, “You’re arrogant.”

“True,” he admitted like I was saying the sky was dark.

“You’re… irritating.”

“Also true.”

“And you showed up at my hostel unannounced.”

“Fair.”

I frowned, frustrated that he wasn’t arguing back.

“But none of those sound like hate,” he added gently after a few seconds of silence.

Gritting my teeth, I turned toward him sharply. “Why do you care what I feel?”

His jaw tightened slightly, but his voice stayed calm. “Because you look at me like I’ve done something unforgivable, and I don’t even know what crime I committed.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

The car slowed as we approached a massive building glowing with warm golden lights.

“This is a five-star hotel,” I said slowly, blinking as the recognition dawned on me.

“Yes.”

“Why are we here?”

“To eat.”

“You could’ve taken me to a normal place.”

“I could have,” he agreed, pulling into the entrance.

Valets moved quickly toward the car.

Ocean stepped out first, handing over the keys smoothly before coming around to my side.

He opened the door and extended his hand.

I hesitated as people were watching. I really didn't want to be the center of attention but Ocean was making it difficult for me.

Ocean looked like he belonged here; tall, composed and effortlessly confident.

And me?

I was wearing a hoodie and baggy pants like I had just escaped from a lazy day inside.

“I look ridiculous,” I muttered.

“You look comfortable.” He replied, tilting his head. “Come on.” He urged.

Pressing my lips into a thin line, I placed my hand in his anyway, ignoring the strange flutter in my stomach as his fingers closed around mine.

Inside, the hotel was breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers scattered light across marble floors. Soft music floated through the air, elegant and subtle.

People dressed in expensive clothes moved gracefully around us, and I suddenly became hyper aware of my messy bun.

I tugged at my sleeves, face palming myself for not listening to Dawn.

Ocean noticed my discomfort but didn’t comment. Instead, he guided me toward a restaurant tucked into a corner of the lobby.

We were seated by a window overlooking the city lights. The view was stunning, glittering buildings stretched endlessly into the night.

I tried not to look impressed but I failed. This was my first time in this part of the town.

My movement was always triangular. From dorm to school then back to the dorm.

When the menus arrived, I stared at the prices and nearly choked. The prices were outrageous.

The cheapest on the menu was my allowance for the month.

“Order whatever you want,” Ocean said casually.

“I don’t want to bankrupt you.” I whispered , suddenly feeling hot despite the cold atmosphere.

He raised an eyebrow. Smirking, he said, “That’s unlikely.”

I rolled my eyes but ordered something safe anyway.

At first, our conversation felt forced. It started with polite questions and careful answers.

But slowly, without realizing it, we slipped into something easier.

He asked about my classes while I teased him about how serious he sounded.

Somewhere between appetizers and the main course, I realized I had stopped being tense.

I leaned forward without thinking, resting my chin on my hand as he spoke.

The warmth in my chest grew stronger and more dangerous.

Stop, this isn’t real. – I chided myself severally but I couldn't help it.

After dinner, he insisted on ice cream for dessert.

“I’m full,” I protested.

“You skipped two meals,” he countered. “Ice cream is mandatory.” He added, leaving me with no chance to argue.

The car ride afterward felt lighter and too comfortable.

He drove through brightly lit streets before pulling into a massive clothing store with glass walls and mannequins dressed like they belonged on magazine covers.

Unsure of what he was up to, I asked, “What are we doing here?”

He turned off the engine, glancing at me with that familiar smirk that made my stomach flip despite myself.

He stepped out, came around, and opened my door again.

“Ocean.” I called, crossing my hand on my chest in defiance.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned slightly closer.

“I’m getting you dolled up.” He whispered, his warm breath fanning my face.