011

Astrid’s POV

The city lights blurred past the window like streaks of liquid gold.

Finally, Ocean was satisfied with my look and now we are on our way to wherever he was taking me to.

Pressing my lips into a thin line, I kept my eyes fixed on my phone, pretending to scroll through messages I wasn’t actually reading.

The glow from the screen illuminated my face, giving me something to focus on instead of the heavy awareness sitting beside me in the driver’s seat.

The car smelled faintly of leather and something clean, masculine, and expensive.

Everything about him and about this entire evening felt too polished and too intentional like he had planned this day beforehand.

I shifted slightly, crossing one leg over the other, the slit of my dress sliding higher against my thigh.

The movement made me hyperaware of my body and the way the fabric clung to me like it was my second skin.

I could still remember the way his eyes had looked at me back at the store.

God, that look went beyond my skin.

Biting the corner of my lips, I swallowed, forcing myself to focus harder on my screen.

But it didn’t work.

No matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept circling back to the same moment; the silence after I turned around and the way he stared like he had forgotten how to breathe.

My stomach twisted.

I hated how much that affected me.

The car slowed slightly as we stopped at a traffic light, the red light illuminating the interior for a brief second.

For the hundredth time, I resisted the urge to glance at him.

Instead, my mind wandered elsewhere.

His car.

I had noticed it earlier when he first picked me up. It was sleek, dark and expensive in a way that didn’t scream for attention but demanded it anyway.

Even someone like me, who knew almost nothing about cars, could tell it wasn’t ordinary.

Reis has a car too but it wasn’t like this, not even close.

And then there was the restaurant.

Five-star, elegant. It was the kind of place where people lowered their voices instinctively and waiters moved like shadows.

And the clothing store.

I swallowed again, digging my nails into my exposed thigh.

He had spent an absurd amount of money on me tonight.

The dress alone had probably cost more than everything I owned combined.

Ice cream, makeup, hair, nails, every detail felt like a luxury I had never imagined experiencing firsthand.

Ten thousand dollars, maybe more.

The thought made my chest tighten.

Why?

Why would he do all this?

I turned my head slightly, studying his face when he wasn’t looking.

Ocean didn’t feel like the typical rich boy stereotype. He didn’t brag, didn’t flaunt, instead, he moved like someone who had nothing to prove.

And suddenly, I remembered waking up in that ultra-modern house with glass walls and minimalist design which screamed quiet wealth.

My fingers tightened around my phone.

No doubt, he was one of those rich kids who don’t need to show off because everyone already knows.

The realization made me uneasy.

Because it meant he existed in a world completely different from mine.

Silence stretched between us until his voice broke through my thoughts.

“You want to ask something.”

It wasn’t a question.

Startled, I blinked, turning toward him.

“What?” I managed to ask.

“You’ve been staring at your phone for fifteen minutes without scrolling.” He wasn't even looking at me.

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off, rubbing my neck as heat crawled through my veins.

“You were thinking,” he corrected calmly. “And when you think that hard, it usually means you’re holding back a question.”

I hesitated.

He knew me too well already.

“I don’t have anything to ask,” I said finally, shaking my head.

He hummed softly, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push.

The city shifted around us as we turned into a quieter street. Music began to pulse faintly in the distance, low and rhythmic.

A moment later, the car slowed as we entered a wide underground garage which was illuminated by neon lights.

My stomach flipped when I realized we were at a club.

He parked smoothly, the engine going silent. The sudden quiet made everything feel heavier.

The moment he reached for the door handle, panic hit me unexpectedly.

“Wait,” I said, shooting out my hand to grab his arm.

He froze immediately, turning toward me.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, his blue eyes not leaving mine.

My heart was racing wildly but if I didn’t say it now, I never would.

“If we’re doing this… fake dating thing,” I began slowly, “it’s going to be on my terms.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly. It was clear he wasn't expecting it.

“Oh?”

I nodded, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

“Yes.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he leaned forward slightly. “Alright. Let’s hear them.”

Tightening my grip on my phone, I inhaled deeply, organizing my thoughts.

“First,” I said firmly, “no unnecessary touching unless we’re in public and need to keep up appearances.”

His expression shifted into a thoughtful and serious one.

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Secondly,” I continued, gaining confidence, “you don’t get to make decisions for me. No surprise shopping sprees, no forcing me into things without asking.”

“That wasn’t forcing…”

“It felt like it,” I cut in, crossing my hands on my chest.

He nodded slowly. “Noted.”

“Thirdly,” I said, “this stays private between us. No telling the entire school or your friends unless we agree on it together.”

His lips twitched slightly at that but he nodded again.

“Fourthly,” I added, “this is temporary. No emotional expectations. We’re pretending… that’s it.”

The words felt heavier than I expected.

Something flickered in his eyes but disappeared too quickly for me to read.

“Anything else?” he asked softly.

I hesitated.

“Yes.”

He waited patiently for me to construct my words in my head.

“If at any point I want out,” I said quietly, “you let me go. No arguments.”

Silence filled the car at that.

He studied me carefully, like he was memorizing every word.

“Deal,” he said finally.

The relief that rushed through me was unexpected and intense. Given his status, I didn’t expect him to accept my terms without making a fuss.

He opened the door and stepped out of the car, walking around to my side.

The garage lights reflected off the polished surface of the vehicle as he opened my door.

I took his offered hand, stepping out carefully, the cool air brushing against my skin.

Music thumped faintly from somewhere above us.

I barely had time to steady myself before he stepped closer and then he slid his hand around my waist and before I could protest, he said against my neck, “We are in public.”