By the time the meeting ended that morning, I thought I had regained control of myself. My schedule was in order, to attend the rest of my classes, review my notes, and finalize my plans for the board. Everything was functioning as it should.
And then she appeared—standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting for me like some unexpected test I hadn't prepared for.
Annabel.
The name itself was starting to feel like a disruption to my equilibrium.
When she told me that Ryan had asked her out, something cold and unmanageable ripped through me. For a brief moment, I saw red. It wasn't just irritation—it was possessive, territorial, and completely unacceptable. I had built my entire life on discipline, and she had managed to fracture it with ten words.
"I said yes."
God. I felt those words like a blade tearing through me.
The rest of the day was a blur of restraint and self-reprimand. I tried to reason with myself—convincing the rational part of me that she was just another student, perhaps a bright one, someone my dad's business partner asked me to mentor. But reason had nothing to say once she looked at me the way she did—challenging, soft, and utterly sure that I would react.
And she was right. She had me reacting to everything.
By late afternoon, I was in my room, my chair turned away from the reading desk, staring out the window at nothing. Axel came in, tossing his bag onto the couch.
"You look like someone who just failed a test" he said.
"Worse," I muttered.
He cocked an eyebrow. "The family friend's daughter giving you trouble again?"
I sat still, ignoring his question.
Axel chuckled. "Right. And that explains the way you're gripping that pen like it owes you money."
I ignored him, even though every part of me needed to talk about her. "She told me she's thinking of going out with that guy, Ryan."
Axel leaned back, half-amused and half-concerned. "Your brother's roommate?"
"Exactly." I rubbed my hand over my jaw, trying to exhale the tension. "He's immature and unfocused. He thinks he can just date anyone. I told her he was a distraction, and now she's deliberately proving me right."
Axel smirked. "So she's getting under your skin. Sounds like she's winning."
"She's not winning," I snapped, sharper than intended. Then I softened my tone, almost to myself, "She's playing games she doesn't understand. She thinks she can manipulate my attention—test me."
Axel tilted his head. "And can she?"
That question lingered too long.
I didn't answer him because I didn't like the truth that came with it. She could. She already had.
I had spent weeks keeping my boundaries, reminding myself of the lines I couldn't cross. But today… I had crossed one just by calling her to the diner.
I said, "No more games." But the diner itself was one—my move on the board, my way to remind her who held control—except I wasn't sure I did anymore. I explained to Axel that I was going to speak with her later.
Axel sighed, sensing the storm brewing. "Nic, don't go if you're already this wound up. You're not thinking clearly."
"I've never been clearer," I lied, standing to grab my coat. "This isn't about attraction. It's about control. She needs to understand that her future isn't something to gamble with."
Axel looked at me for a long moment. "You keep telling yourself that, man. But you're not angry because she said yes to Ryan. You're angry because she didn't say no to you, and she keeps roping you in."
That hit harder than I wanted to admit. I didn't respond. I just took off my shirt, ignoring the weight in my chest, and headed for the bathroom.
By the time I arrived at Neon Diner, the campus lights had settled into a quiet glow, matching the rhythm of my heartbeat. I reminded myself to stay calm and professional, telling myself that this wasn't personal.
The door chime broke through the low hum of the diner, and my breath caught in my throat before I even looked up.
Annabel.
There was something impossibly deliberate about the way she walked in—like she was fully aware of the effect she had on me and wanted to remind me what I had almost lost. She wore a black dress that framed her figure in a way that radiated confidence—quiet, dangerous, and devastating.
I had convinced myself that the meeting was about discipline, guidance, and clarity. But the moment she met my gaze, I knew none of that would hold.
She took off her coat and slid into the seat across from me, exuding poise and subtle defiance. "Nicholas," she said, causing me to almost flinch. She only used my full name when she was testing the boundaries between us.
"Annabel," I replied, forcing the word out evenly, though my pulse was anything but steady.
She picked up the menu and ordered a chocolate milkshake without fidgeting or looking away. She sat there, meeting my gaze head-on, as if waiting to see if I would blink first. I didn't. I couldn't. But inside, everything was unraveling.