Chapter 5

By Wednesday morning, I had officially reached the deeply embarrassing stage of attraction where I started planning outfits around the possibility of accidentally running into someone. Not for him, obviously, for me, because there was absolutely no way I was giving Harmony the satisfaction of being right about this.

Still, after rejecting three shirts and spending far too long fixing my eyeliner, I finally grabbed my bag and headed across campus with a coffee in hand and my dignity hanging by a thread.

Cold air curled around me as I crossed the quad. The sky had finally dumped snow overnight, leaving a thin layer of white dusting the grass and sidewalks. Students shuffled through campus bundled in hoodies and jackets while their breath fogged white in the freezing air.

Somebody cursed loudly after slipping on ice nearby. Laughter immediately followed.

Honestly? Fair.

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket.

Harmony: survive the brooding love interest yet?

Me: if you call him that again i’m blocking you

Harmony: so no then

I rolled my eyes while shoving the phone away. Unfortunately, the second I walked into the humanities building, my pulse betrayed me immediately, because he was there.

Takoda leaned against the wall near the classroom doors, black hoodie pulled over a dark thermal, one hand shoved into his pocket while the other held a coffee cup.

Even surrounded by students, he stood apart somehow; not trying to, he just…did.

The hallway noise blurred slightly as my eyes caught on him. His head lifted almost instantly, and again, I felt that impossible awareness.

The second his gaze landed on me, something low in my stomach tightened hard enough to make me angry about it.

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.

For half a second neither of us moved, then his eyes narrowed slightly. Not hostile, but definitely focused, as if he noticed everything all at once; the cold on my cheeks. The coffee in my hand. The fact I nearly stumbled because I was too busy staring at him.

Fantastic.

I recovered quickly, straightening my shoulders before walking toward the classroom like my nervous system wasn’t actively humiliating me.

“You’re staring,” I informed him as I approached.

His gaze stayed on me another second before dropping briefly toward the coffee cup in my hand.

He shrugged. “So are you.”

“I feel like you’re enjoying this more than you should,” I muttered.

Something almost resembling amusement touched the corner of his mouth, it disappeared fast enough I almost thought I imagined it.

“You always talk this much?” he asked.

“You always answer questions with more questions?” I shot back.

His eyes held mine for one long beat, then, “Yes.”

I hated the way that tiny answer made warmth spread through my chest.

Students brushed past us toward the classroom doors while tension curled quietly in the space between us.

Takoda stepped aside slightly to let a group through, instinctively positioning himself where he could still see both the hallway and the stairwell behind us.

I noticed before I could stop myself.

“What happened to your hand?” The question slipped out before I could reconsider it.

His gaze dropped briefly toward the healing scrape across his knuckles. “Nothing.”

“Wow,” I deadpanned. “Very believable.”

A muscle shifted in his jaw, and for one second, I thought he might walk away entirely. Instead, he looked back at me and exhaled slowly through his nose. “You ask questions like you expect people to answer them honestly.”

I tipped my head sideways, stating, “I usually do.”

“That’s dangerous,” he stated.

There it was again, not drama, nor flirting, instead it felt like warning.

The strange thing was how little it pushed me away. If anything, it pulled me closer.

Which probably meant I needed professional help.

Before I could respond, loud laughter echoed down the hallway behind me.

Instinctively, I turned toward the sound. A guy from one of my literature classes walked past with two friends before slowing slightly when he noticed me. “Analiese,” he greeted with an easy grin. “You survive Smith’s reading assignment?”

“Barely,” I declared.

He laughed. “I knew it. Half that translation looked like somebody spilled alphabet soup across the page.”

I smiled despite myself while he kept talking, beside me, Takoda went completely still. Not visibly tense, worse; disciplined as all hell.

The change was subtle enough most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but I did.

His attention fixed hard on the guy standing a little too close to me now. Not jealousy exactly. Assessment.

Predatory awareness flickered briefly behind his eyes before disappearing beneath restraint again, and he realization sent heat crawling unexpectedly through me.

The literature guy finally nodded toward the classroom. “See you inside.”

“Yeah,” I replied softly.

The second he walked away, silence settled between me and Takoda again, then, “You know him?” The question came low and flat.

I blinked once. “Uh…sort of?”

His gaze remained fixed down the hallway where the guy disappeared.

Awareness tightened my chest. “You didn’t like him,” I observed carefully.

Takoda finally looked at me again. “I don’t know him.”

“That’s not what I said,” I corrected.

A long pause stretched between us, then he stepped closer, not enough to touch me, but enough that warmth rolled off him through the cold hallway air, and my heartbeat immediately betrayed me.

“You should go inside, Analiese.” His voice emerged low, regimented, but beneath it, tension coiled tightly enough I could practically feel it.

I swallowed once. “Are you always this intense?”

His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth before lifting again. “Yes.”

The honesty of it hit harder than flirting would have. For one impossible second neither of us moved. The hallway noise faded strangely around the edges while my pulse hammered hard enough I could feel it in my throat.

His gaze stayed fixed on mine with a focus that made my skin feel too tight.

Not hungry, but restrained, which somehow felt worse.

“What?” I questioned quietly before I could stop myself.

Something unreadable crossed his face before disappearing almost instantly. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” I accused.

That almost-smile ghosted briefly across his mouth again. Tiny, barely there, but enough to send warmth unfurling low in my stomach.

God.

Harmony was never going to let me live this down.

Suddenly Professor Smith’s voice carried from inside the classroom. “If you’re loitering dramatically in my hallway, at least have the decency to do it quietly.”

Heat flooded my face instantly.

Takoda stepped back first, not embarrassed, simply regimented again.

Meanwhile, I wanted the floor to crack open and swallow me whole.

“Fantastic,” I muttered under my breath.

Takoda’s gaze flicked toward me again. “You embarrass easily for someone who talks this much.”

I stared at him. “Was that a joke?”

One shoulder lifted slightly beneath his hoodie. Not confirmation or denial.

After another serious glance in my direction, and without another word, he turned and walked into the lecture hall.