More Than a Campus Fling

AVA.

Blackwood Institute Sports Complex.

The grass brushed lightly against my sneakers as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my fingers loosely wrapped around the strap of my bag. The evening air carried a faint chill, but it wasn’t enough to settle the heat simmering under my skin.

Four days.

Just four days on this campus, and I had already learned more than I ever wanted to.

Not everyone smiles at you because they like you.

Some smile because they’ve already decided where you belong.

And where you don’t.

My jaw tightened slightly as I glanced at a group of girls a few feet away. Perfect hair. Perfect clothes. Perfect laughter— too loud, too deliberate. One of them caught my gaze briefly, her eyes dragging over me before she leaned into her friend, whispering something that made the others giggle.

I looked away first.

Not because I was weak.

Because I refused to give them the satisfaction.

I exhaled slowly, lifting my chin just a little higher.

I might be here on scholarship.

But I wasn’t beneath anyone.

Not them. Not anyone.

My attention shifted as the orientation leader’s voice faded into the background, replaced by something else— something louder without making a sound.

A pull.

My eyes followed the direction everyone else’s had turned.

Across the field.

A group of boys.

Training.

The orange glow of the setting sun stretched across the pitch, painting their bodies in warm light. Sweat glistened on their skin, catching the fading sunlight with every movement. Their muscles flexed and tensed as they ran, kicked, and turned effortlessly.

The air around me shifted.

Girls leaned forward slightly.

Some bit their lips.

Others whispered, their voices barely contained.

I frowned faintly, my curiosity deepening as I studied them.

Then—

My gaze locked onto one of them.

Everything else faded.

My breath hitched.

He stood out without trying.

Taller. Stronger. Like the rest of them revolved around him without even realizing it.

His black curls clung slightly to his forehead, damp with sweat. His chest rose and fell steadily, his movements sharp, precise. When he ran, it wasn’t rushed— it was controlled, like he already knew he was the best on the field.

My heart skipped.

Actually skipped.

A sharp, sudden jolt in my chest.

And then—

He looked up.

Straight at me and gave a slow deliberate wink.

My stomach dropped.

Heat flooded my face instantly.

I looked away so fast my neck strained, my fingers tightening around my bag strap.

What the hell—

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing, my ears ringing faintly.

“Fuck…” I whispered under my breath.

Now I understood.

Why the girls were blushing.

Why they couldn’t look away.

Because he was—

Damn.

He was fine.

Not just attractive.

Not just handsome.

Dangerous.

The kind of man that didn’t have to try.

The kind that knew.

“Ladies,” the orientation leader’s voice cut through, pulling me slightly out of my thoughts.

I forced my breathing to steady, though my chest still felt tight.

“The men you see over there?” he continued, a smile creeping onto his face. “Are way out of your leagues. Don’t even bother if you don’t want your heart shattered.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the group.

I frowned slightly.

Out of our leagues?

Who decided that?

A girl raised her hand quickly, barely able to contain her excitement. “Is that Tony Blackwood?”

My attention snapped back instantly.

Tony.

The leader chuckled, nodding. “That’s not usually a question I answer during orientation, but… yes. That’s him.”

My eyes shifted back to the field.

Tony Blackwood.

The name settled heavily in my chest.

“Infamous for his black curls and that gaze,” the leader continued, gesturing casually. “And of course— his family practically owns this school.”

A few girls sighed dreamily.

“Every woman’s dream,” he added with a grin. “Can’t even blame you. Sometimes even I forget myself.”

Soft laughter followed.

I didn’t laugh.

I just… stared.

Tony.

The name felt dangerous.

Heavy.

And for some reason, it wrapped itself around my thoughts and refused to let go.

The tour continued.

Voices.

Movement.

Steps.

But I barely heard any of it.

My gaze drifted back to him again.

And again.

This time, he didn’t look at me.

He was focused.

Running drills. Controlling the ball. Moving like the field belonged to him.

I should have looked away.

I didn’t.

—

Moments later, the crowd began to thin and voices faded as orientation drew to a close. Footsteps echoed briefly, then retreated— everyone was leaving the complex.

But I stayed.

I didn’t even remember deciding to.

My feet just… refused to move.

The sky deepened into a richer shade of orange, slowly bleeding into dusk. The field lights flickered on one by one, casting long shadows across the grass.

The boys were still training.

Still moving.

Still dominating the space.

And I was still watching.

Then—

Everything shifted.

Tony slowed.

Stopped.

His hand ran briefly through his damp hair as he turned.

And then—

He started walking.

Toward me.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

No.

No way.

I looked away instantly, my gaze dropping to my shoes, my breath coming faster than I could control.

His footsteps grew louder.

Closer.

Closer.

Until—

They stopped.

Right in front of me.

I could feel him there.

The weight of his presence pressed against me, heavy, undeniable.

“Look at me.”

His voice was deep.

Commanding.