Chapter Three 

Ace’s POV

She chose walking in the rain over getting into my car.

That alone should’ve annoyed me, but instead I found myself idling behind her in my car, headlights off, keeping just enough distance so she wouldn’t notice.

It was late, and Moreland wasn’t exactly the safest neighborhood at night.

She didn’t need to know I was behind her, but the idea of leaving her to stumble back alone in a storm didn’t sit right.

Emma Kingston. My roommate. The girl who looked at me like I was the plague, and she was conjuring ways to take me out of existence.

I hadn’t expected a girl when the landlord told me I’d have a new roommate. And definitely not one who had no idea who I was.

That first day, when I thought she was just another clinger trying to find her way into my apartment, I slammed the door without a second thought. Now, I kind of wished I hadn’t.

She was timid in some ways—soft-spoken, all shy smiles when someone like Dante Williams showed up—but damn, she was fierce when it came to me.

Every time she snapped back, every glare, every smug little smirk when she thought she’d gotten the upper hand… it did something to me.

By the time she reached the apartment, she was drenched, hair sticking to her face, sneakers squelching with each step.

She didn’t even glance at me when I teased her, she just slammed her bedroom door like I wasn’t worth the air she breathed.

I stood in the living room for a moment, staring at her closed door. Then I muttered, “Yeah, okay. Fine. Round three goes to you, Professor.”

But I wasn’t about to let it end there.

Everyone loves pizza. Everyone loves ice cream. Especially girls. That was universal law.

So twenty minutes later, I was standing outside her door, holding a greasy pizza box in one hand and the biggest tub of cookie dough ice cream in the other.

When she opened the door, eyebrows raised high. The look she gave me was pure suspicion.

“What do you want?”

I held the food like a white flag. “Peace offering.”

Her eyes flicked from the box to the tub. Her lips twitched, just barely. “You brought ice cream for me after I just got beat by rain?”

The way she said it made me realize how ridiculous I must’ve looked—handing her ice-cream instead of coffee, standing there like some kind of desperate delivery boy.

Heat crawled up the back of my neck and I almost retracted the box.

But then she laughed.

Her first genuine laugh since she’d moved in.

And God was she beautiful.

Her smile hit me like a punch.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re actually insane.”

“Insanely charming,” I corrected. “And generous. Don’t forget generous.”

Emma shook her head but stepped out walking towards the living room. Like I was compelled, I followed.

We sat on the couch, pizza box open between us, ice cream waiting with two spoons sticking out of it. She curled her legs under her, careful not to touch me, and grabbed a slice.

“You know,” she said between bites, “I’m the one who cut your lights the other night.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So you basically left me in the Stone Age in my own house?”

I had my suspicions but I did exactly think she had it in her.

Well, damn.

She grinned, almost proud. “Yeah. The switch is in my room. You can turn it back on now, if you want.”

I walked towards the room, miming like I was about to flick a switch on the wall, then stopped.

“What’s wrong is it not coming on?”

“Nah. Pretty sure it’s stuck.”

I walked back to the living room just in time to see her eyes widened. “Stuck?”

“Yeah,” I said casually, settling back on the chair, biting into another slice. “Happens sometimes. Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring someone in to fix it.”

She immediately started to panic. “Wait—you can’t do that. I’ll pay for it.”

I shrugged. “Don’t stress.It’s no big deal.”

Her brows furrowed. “I can call the landlord. I’ll pay for it.”

“Relax, Professor.” I leaned back, smirking. “I’ll survive. Besides, you’ve got enough guilt in your eyes already. It’s kind of entertaining.”

She huffed, clearly annoyed at herself for admitting it.

After a while, the tension eased. We ate in comfortable silence until she finally asked, “So… you going to Dante’s party?”

“Obviously,” I said. “It’s Dante. Everyone goes to Dante’s.”

She fiddled with her spoon. “I’m not.”

“Why not? You were invited.”

“I’ve got… things to do.”

I chuckled. “Things like what? Studying? Alphabetizing your bookshelves? Cleaning the fridge?”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, because he was right I had nothing else to do. “It’s none of your business. And my bookshelf is already organized.”

“Come on,” I pushed, nudging her with my elbow. “If you like a guy, you should show it. Hiding doesn’t work.”

Her head snapped toward me. “I don’t like him.”

“Who said I was talking about Dante?”

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “You’re impossible.”

I smirked, letting the silence hang. She stabbed her spoon into the ice cream, muttering under her breath.

There was a tiny smear of brown at the corner of her lips. My hand twitched as I stopped myself from reaching for her face.”

“You’ve got…” I motioned vaguely. “Right there.”

She licked her lips, missing it.

Still there.

My hand twitched with the urge to just wipe it off myself. Instead, I leaned closer. “Here, let me—”

The sound of a door bell ringing cut me off.

I walked to the door and there she was.

Some girl I’d texted earlier in the week, standing in the doorway in a dress that barely qualified as clothing. Low-cut, short enough to be a crime, heels clicking against the floor.

“Hey, Ace,” she purred, running a hand through her hair.

I heard Emma scoff in annoyance behind me.

“Wow,” Emma muttered, shoving her spoon down and bolting up. “Thank you for the food. Enjoy your… whatever that is.”

Before I could say a word, she rushed off to her room, door slamming shut.

I sat there, pizza slice in hand, staring after her.