All Chapters of ADDICTED TO YOU: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Chapter 1 “Fuck, not again,” I muttered under my breath as I dropped into my usual seat in Lecture Hall B, the hard plastic already cold against the backs of my thighs. Eight in the morning and the room already smelled like cheap coffee and last night’s regret. I pulled my notebook out and flipped it open just to look busy, even though Professor Hale hadn’t even walked in yet. Then the door at the back slammed open. Everyone turned. I didn’t. Not at first. I kept my eyes on the blank page like it owed me money. But the second that deep, low voice said, “Sorry, got lost,” something in my stomach twisted hard. I looked up. Tall. Dark hair still damp like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Black hoodie stretched across broad shoulders. Jeans that sat low on his hips. He scanned the packed rows and somehow the only empty seat left was the one right next to me. Of course it fucking was. He slid in without asking, bag thudding to the floor between us. His knee bumped mine once, then

Chapter 3 I barely slept after that walk home. Every time I closed my eyes I felt his knee against mine under the table and heard his voice saying my name low like he already knew how it would sound if I came for him. By morning my sheets were twisted and my hand had already been between my legs twice. It didn’t help. Days passed. Classes came and went. Lucas still sat next to me. Still let his leg rest against mine. Still looked at my mouth when I talked. Neither of us brought up the study room or the walk or the way my jeans had been damp by the time I got upstairs. The tension just sat there between us, heavy and unfinished. Friday night my roommate dragged me to a house party two blocks off campus. I went because the alternative was lying in bed thinking about Lucas again. I had two drinks before we even left the dorm and another one the second we walked through the door. The music was too loud. The air smelled like beer and sweat and cheap body spray. People packed every room.

Chapter 5 A full week dragged by after the rooftop. Classes felt endless. Lucas still sat next to me every time but the space between us had changed. Every brush of his arm or press of his knee sent the same sharp ache straight between my legs. We barely spoke. We didn’t need to. The look he gave me said everything. Friday night I stopped pretending I could wait any longer. I bought a cheap bottle of red from the corner store, shoved it in my bag, and walked the six blocks to the address he’d given me weeks ago for the group project. His place was a small second-floor apartment above a quiet side street. I climbed the stairs with my heart already pounding and knocked once. He opened the door in a black t-shirt and jeans, hair still damp like he’d just showered. His eyes dropped over me once, slow, then came back up. “Flora.” “I brought wine,” I said, holding the bag up. “Zero intention of studying.” He stepped aside without another word. The second the door clicked shut behind

Chapter 2 I booked the appointment two days later under the excuse of needing proper feedback on the marked paper. His office hours were listed as four to six on Tuesdays. I showed up at four-ten with the folder under my arm and a pulse that had already started low in my stomach. The door was half open. I knocked once. “Come in.” Lawrence sat behind the desk in the same dark shirt rolled to the elbows this time. No jacket. The small office smelled like paper and something clean underneath. A single window let in late afternoon light. He nodded at the chair across from him. “Sit. Show me where you’re stuck.” I sat and opened the folder. My notes from the night before were messy. I pointed at the third page. “You wrote that the transition here is weak. I don’t see it.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Read it out loud.” I did. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. When I finished he took the page from me, our fingers brushing for half a second. He didn’t pull away fast.

Chapter 4 The days after that walk felt longer than they should have. Every lecture I sat in the middle row again and tried not to stare at his hands. Every time he said my name for an answer my pulse dropped straight between my legs. We didn’t talk about the path or the way he had almost closed the distance under the trees. We just kept circling each other in office hours and seminars like the tension wasn’t already thick enough to choke on. Thursday evening I stayed after his last office hour under the usual excuse of one more question about the final paper. The building had emptied out. Most of the lights in the hallway were already dimmed. Rain had been threatening all afternoon and by the time I sat down across from his desk it started coming down hard against the windows. We went through two pages of notes before the power flickered. A low rumble of thunder rolled over the building. Lawrence glanced at the dark glass. “Storm’s worse than they said.” I nodded and kept my eye