LOGIN“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Imani whispered, her voice trembling more from want than from fear of her brother barging in and catching her leaning in to kiss his ex-best-friend now turned enemy. “Then stop me,” he murmured back, his fingers brushing her jaw, his breath hot against her skin. But neither of them moved. The distance between them had already disappeared, along with every rule she’d promised not to break. *** When Imani Grayson, a quiet psychology major, is assigned to mentor the university’s star hockey captain, Nicolas Jameson, she expects arrogance not the kind of chemistry that keeps her up at night. What begins as a simple assignment spirals into late-night tutoring sessions, stolen glances, and kisses that blur every boundary she’s ever set. But with jealous teammates watching, old wounds resurfacing, and a love too intense to hide, the game they started might be the one that shatters them both. Imani will soon learn that some games can’t be won without losing everything, and Nicolas, that even in the game of hearts, the strongest player can fall to his knees.
View MoreImani’s POV
“No, no, no. Don't give me that look, Imani.” June, my best friend, warned, rolling her eyes. Of course, she knew what that face meant… I don't want to leave my safe place especially for not something as stupid as a party. I stared back at the mirror, a sigh escaping my lips. June had spent nearly an hour curling my 4b mid-long hair into glossy spirals and painting my lips with a soft combo of brown and pink lipstick that fitted perfectly with my brown skin body. The dress, a deep emerald satin thing that clung to my body perfectly— was something I would never have chosen. It was too tight, and it brought out the curves I had always felt so insecure about. “Don’t even think about it.” She smacked my hands away from dragging the gown down. “No one goes to a party in sweats and joggers.” I wanted to argue that it was the only way I’d stay hidden in the midst of chaos but June was beaming, twirling around me with a makeup brush still in her hand like some giddy fairy godmother. “See? I told you,” she said, her voice lilting with pure satisfaction. “You look like temptation with a psychology degree.” I rolled my eyes, tugging at the hem. “I look like someone trying too hard. The lipgloss doesn't suit me and I would rather go….” “Uhm uhm” She interrupted, shaking her head dramatically. “Don't jinx it. Don't jinx it with your words. You look like someone who deserves to stop hiding.” She came up behind me, her beautiful reflection meeting mine in the mirror. “It's one night, Imani. One party. You'll be with me the entire time. Promise. I can't ditch you for some guy.” Her words should have comforted me but…it didn't. Parties and I had never mixed so well. Not since freshman year when I had almost had my innocence taken forcefully and I had to go back into my shell. The feeling that people whispered about it haunted me for months before I stopped letting it get to me but never really disappeared. I told myself it didn't matter anymore , that I was over it and that what happened wasn't my fault… I stared at my reflection in the mirror, If anything were to happen to me while I was dressed like this would certainly be my fault. Still, June was right. I couldn't hide forever from my fears. And Zachary Jackson had been insistent— reminding June of how he wanted me dressed. He'd asked three times already, flashing that easy, lopsided grim that made every girl on campus swoon. My best friend since sophomore year, my designated partner for late-night library sessions, my walking encyclopaedia of bad decisions. Don't get me wrong, I have June for all of these but then…..he was already a part of me when she came by. Jackson was…complicated. Handsome in a careless way, with a charm that could melt Ice, and a reputation that could set it on fire again. I liked him, genuinely but not like that. He flirted the way other people breathed: constantly, thoughtlessly, like it was second nature. And though I rolled my eyes every time he called me ‘beautiful’ or ‘baby girl’, I knew the game he played. A very careless playboy. Still, when he had asked me to come to the pre-homecoming party tonight, I'd said no. Twice. It was June who came in and here I was. Dressed up like a doll. “Imani, you've been locked up with textbooks and case studies all semester,” she'd pleaded earlier that afternoon, eyes wide and all dramatic like the dramatic Queen she was. “You deserve to have fun. You deserve to breathe.” And maybe she was right. Maybe tonight I could just be. Be me! The doorbell rang. June squealed and ran to the living room while I rolled my eyes. “What's so fun about this party, June?” “Everything!” I smoothed the satin down my hips, inhaled deeply, and followed her. Jackson stood at the door, wearing that stupidly confident smile and a black varsity jacket that made him look both dangerous and magnetic. “Damn,” he said as soon as his eyes landed on me.” You clean up good, Grayson.” I gave him a flat look. “That's not new to me, Jack. You say that to everyone who wears a dress. Specifically a skimpy dress!” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe. But I mean it this time. You look so yummy.” June nudged me with her elbow. “Told you.” I wanted to roll my eyes, but the heat creeping up my neck stopped me. “Ready?” Jackson asked, offering his arm like we were heading to a gala and not a party filled with red cups and sweaty undergrads. “Stop the schrade, Jack. We are not a couple.” I huffed and I heard June coughed. “He's trying to be a gentleman.” I hesitated. Then, quietly, took it. June was humming beside me, glued to her phone, probably texting some of the boys in the group to meet us there. I focused on my heels clicking against the sidewalk as we walked toward his car. Jackson opened the door for me with a mock bow. “Your chariot, milady.” I bit back a smile and slid inside. The drive was easy at first, windows down, music low, Jackson tapping the steering wheel to the best while June sang along off-key. For a few minutes, it felt normal with my heart pounding anxiously. Until it didn't. We suddenly stopped at a red light near the campus entrance. Jackson turned his head, his eyes flicking over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “You know,” he said, a teasing lilt in his tone and I could have sworn he wanted to say something meaningful. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get my attention tonight.” My fingers froze on my lap and slowly a disbelieving scoff escaped my lips. “What's that supposed to mean?” He smirked, leaning back casually. “Yes, I mean, I have never seen you in a dress like this whenever there was a party. You don't have a crush and the only person I can think of is me!” I watched, my mouth widely opened. “Trying to get your attention?” “Yes! I love that you're dressed like my slut tonight.” And that was it! I lost my sanity instantly.Imani’s POVBy the third night of tutoring, my nerves were a mess.Not because Nicolas was difficult, he was always difficult, but because something had shifted. Something subtle. Something I didn’t trust.Ever since I called him childish, he had been quieter. More focused. Less sarcastic. It should’ve made things easier.Instead, it made me… aware. Aware of his eyes lingering too long. Aware of his height when he leaned over my table. Aware of the way he smelled when he walked past me, crisp laundry, clean skin, faint cologne.I hated myself for noticing. I hated him more for making me notice.But ignoring Nicolas was like ignoring gravity, impossible, stupid, and guaranteed to cause damage.At 10:02 PM, three hard knocks sounded at my door.I opened it and found him standing there in a black t-shirt and joggers, hair damp like he’d showered again. He glanced at me once, eyes flicking down my face before looking away quickly.“Evening,” he muttered.“You’re on time again. Miracles ex
Nicolas’s POVI spent the entire next morning pretending nothing was wrong.I hated how aware I was of her now. It felt like someone had turned up the volume on a radio I never asked to listen to. Everything she did, from the sound of her voice explaining formulas to the way she pushed her glasses up when she concentrated replayed in my head without permission.It was annoying. Distracting. And it needed to stop.Which is why I was grateful Lyon was already waiting for me at the rink with a bag of protein bars and too much energy at nine in the morning.The rink was cold, my favorite kind of cold, the kind that bit into skin and cleared your head. But today, even the ice couldn’t cut through the fog in my brain.“What’s with your face?” Lyon said immediately, tossing me a bar.“What face?” I muttered.“The ‘I either killed a man or fell in love’ face.”I stiffened. “That’s not a thing.”“It is. And you’re doing it.”I ripped open the bar aggressively and took a bite. “I’m fine.”He sn
Imani’s POVBy the next morning, my apartment smelled like Nicolas had left irritation behind as a scent. I woke up exhausted, my brain still buzzing from last night’s session. The worst part wasn’t even the work, it was the way he had stared at me. Not mockingly. Not smugly.Just… stared. Like he actually saw me, and I didn’t know what to do with that.I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, put my hair up, and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes looked tired, like I was already in over my head.And it had only been one night.Great.When I stepped into the living room, June was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a bowl of cereal, watching me with raised eyebrows.“You look like you got hit by a truck,” she said around a spoonful.“Thanks,” I muttered, heading to the kitchen for tea.“So…” June called, voice teasing, “how was your night with Satan?”I sighed, leaning against the counter. “Horrible.”She grinned. “You sound like you’re lying.”“I sound l
Nicolas’s POVI told myself it was pointless.The whole walk from campus to her apartment, I kept repeating it like a mantra. This was just a mandatory tutor session. Just a boring academic requirement. That was all this was supposed to be.But my hands were shoved deep in my pockets, and my heart was beating too fast for something that was supposed to mean nothing.I slowed down when I reached her building, staring up at the balcony I vaguely remembered from the one time Tyrique dragged me here years ago. It looked exactly like her, neat, organized, not a single thing out of place. I could practically feel her judgment from the damn railing.“Relax,” I muttered to myself, rolling my shoulders back. “It’s just tutoring. She's not going to kill you.”Though honestly… she looked like she wanted to earlier today.My phone buzzed. A message from Lyon:Lyon: Bro did you die?Me: NoLyon: Then why are you leaving the rink looking like you’re about to commit murderMe: HomeworkLyon: Ew. Ha
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