Chapter 9: Peace Pact

~Nicole~

4:10 PM.

Still no Landon.

I adjusted the collar of my cardigan and glanced at the door again, trying not to look like I was waiting…but I was.

The smoothie sat on the table like a peace offering. A peace pact wrapped in mango and pineapple.

Landon Hockman.

I needed to get close enough to finish what I started.

He was the key to my revenge plan..

I stirred the straw in the cup, ignoring how tight my chest felt.

One tutoring session, earbuds in, letting the soft piano of Confess to You bleed into my thoughts. It was the latest OST I was obsessed with.

A knock on the desk snapped me out of it.

I looked up, and there he was…leaning lazily against the desk..

White shirt, jawline cut like it had beef with the gods, and that annoying perfect piercing right at the edge of his eyebrow.

But something was off.

His steps were slower and his jaw tighter.

No smirk this time. Not like usual.

He didn’t say a word, just stared at me. Long and hard.

Like he wanted to drag something out of me…Or like I owed him an answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet.

I folded my arms. “You’re late.”

He raised a brow, sliding into the seat across from me.“By thirty minutes,” he replied, tone flat. “But who’s counting?”

He glanced at the smoothie. “What’s this?”

“A bribe,” I said simply.

He snorted, taking the straw between his fingers but not drinking.“Trying to poison me?”

“Please. If I wanted to kill you, I’d let you choke on your own ego.”

“Funny,” he said.

I scoffed, looking away. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not the one bringing peace offerings,” he said, nodding toward the smoothie.

His eyes flickered to mine…just for a second..and something shifted.

I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter, breaking the heat in the air before it swallowed us both.

You need to ace this course,” I said stiffly. “So let’s start.”

“I changed my mind.”

“What?”

He leaned forward. “Let’s talk instead.”

I crossed my arms. “About what?”

“You. Me. Whatever this is.”

“There is no ‘this.’”

“Sure there is,” he said. “You don’t buy guys smoothies just to be nice.”

I swallowed hard. “Can you not try to pretend you want it?.”

He didn't answer.

Good.

“So… let’s get started. We don’t have much time.”

“Depends,” he said. “Started with what?”

I tilted my head, ready to throw a sarcastic comeback when he suddenly walked slowly toward me, each step deliberate.

My body tensed instinctively, but I didn’t back down.

He stopped at the table, his hand brushing the edge before he pulled out the chair across from me.

Then…without a word…he didn’t sit.

He came around instead.

And before I could blink, he gripped the back of my chair and spun it, so I was facing him directly.

His body loomed, too close. My heart leapt.

“Landon…what are you…”

“You smile at every guy, don’t you?” he said in a low tone,. “What is it? You like the attention?”

I blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He crouched, coming eye-level.

His gaze dropped to my lips, then dragged back up.

“I’ve seen the way they look at you. The way you let them.”

I swallowed hard, my brain tripping over itself.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Just wondering,” he said, “how many of them have touched you like this.”

His hand slid up my thigh.

I gasped, grabbing his wrist. “Landon…stop…”

“Why?” he asked, fingers stilling, but not leaving. “You let them, don’t you?”

“No..” My voice was shaky, too breathy.

“Then why can’t I stop thinking about it?” he growled. “About you. Letting someone else do what I didn’t get to.”

He stood.

Yanked me up from the seat.

Before I could stop him, he dropped into the chair and pulled me onto his lap, his hands gripping my waist, holding me there.

“Landon…”

“Don’t.” His grip tightened. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too.”

I tried to push against his chest. “You’re out of line.”

“And you’re still sitting here,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear. “Still breathing hard.”

I hated that he was right.

My hands trembled, my thighs were warm where his pants met skin.

You don’t get it, do you?” he growled, pulling me closer until I felt him. Hard. “Do you have any idea what I see when I look at you? What I think about every fucking…?”

He swallowed the rest..

Every fucking what…?

But things didn't stop there, instead his hands roamed..up my waist, sliding under my top, grazing the curve of my chest.

Then—

He kissed my neck.

Slow, burning, possessive.

I sucked in a breath, hands on his shoulders, unsure whether to shove him away or pull him closer.

He sucked hard on my neck, and my hips bucked against him involuntarily.

“You like this,” he whispered. “You want this.”

“Stop…” I breathed.

But I clutched his hoodie tighter, thighs tightening around him, body humming like it had betrayed me long before I opened my mouth.

He groaned like the sound of me was driving him insane.

His hand cupped my boobs over my bra, thumb brushing my nipple until my back arched.

“Tell me,” he rasped, lips swollen, breath ragged. “Tell me no one's touched you like this. Lie to me if you have to.”

“Landon, this…this is wrong..”

“Nothing about this feels wrong to me.”

He crushed his mouth to mine, tongue sweeping in, stealing every ounce of oxygen, like he needed me to breathe.

It slammed into me, raw and reckless, like my body had been waiting for it.

His kiss was punishing…angry, hungry, like I owed him something I didn’t know I took.

His hand trailed between my thighs, teasing me through my lap.

I gasped.

He growled.

You’re messing with my head,” he murmured.

He kissed me again.

Harder.

This time…his hand slid under my cardigan again, thumb brushing bare skin. I clutched at his wrist.

“Stop,” I said.

But it came out wrong—too soft, too breathless, like a plea and a prayer.

He didn’t move.

Then…

SLAP.

My hand met his cheek before I could stop myself.

His head jerked slightly.

The sound echoed.

We both froze.

His chest rose and fell like he was seconds from either kissing me again or punching a wall.

But instead, he reached into his hoodie pocket… and threw a crumpled envelope at me.

It landed on the desk beside us with a dull thud.

“What’s this?” I asked, voice still shaky, fingers tingling from where I slapped him.

He didn’t answer.

Just leaned back in the chair, jaw clenched, eyes burning with something that looked a lot like betrayal.

I picked it up slowly.

Recognized it instantly.

I've been looking for this all day.

I thought I lost it.

“How did you even get this?” I demanded.

Still…no answer.

His knuckles were white around the edge of the seat.

His eyes stayed locked on me, as if daring me to open it in front of him.

“You read it, didn’t you?” I said, my voice turning quiet. “That’s why you’re like this.”

That’s why he’d cornered me.

Why the fuck did he react like he owned me?

And worse, he just stole my first kiss.

I was too angry.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I straightened my top. Picked up the letter. Met his gaze, dead-on.

And walked out.