I inhaled sharply, then leaned back just enough to meet his eyes.
"You're really committed to this whole 'accidental' thing."
Ryan's gaze locked onto mine, smirk slow and deliberate.
"I prefer to think of it as... thorough."
His knee pressed a little more firmly against mine.
"Thorough in my pursuit of... understanding," he murmured, voice low and husky. "Of you."
He shrugged casually, like he hadn't just said something dangerous.
"And... you never told me to stop."
I smiled sweetly-too sweet.
"Ryan," I said softly, calm and composed, "if I wanted you closer... I'd say so."
For the first time, his smirk hesitated-just a fraction.
Then he leaned back, hands up in mock surrender.
"Noted," he whispered. "I'll wait for the invitation."
From a few rows back, Matthew stage‑whispered,
"Is it just me, or is Ryan getting rejected in slow motion?"
Elijah snorted.
"I've never seen him try this hard and still lose ground."
Romeo shook his head.
"This is painful. I'm enjoying it."
I hid my smile behind my notebook.
Ryan glanced back at his friends, then leaned over one last time, voice barely above a whisper.
"Careful," he said. "You keep this up, and I might actually behave."
I didn't look at him as I replied.
"Don't lie," I said calmly. "You wouldn't know how."
Ryan laughed quietly, settling back in his chair.
"You're right," he murmured. "But it's fun trying."
The professor droned on, but neither of us took many notes.
Because this wasn't just a seminar anymore.
It was a game.
And neither of us was backing down.
It was club fair day on campus, and you were helping run the booth for your student council. Banners were up, flyers were everywhere, and the smell of popcorn from the food stalls made the whole quad smell like a movie theater.
You were explaining the sign-up process to a group of students when a familiar voice cut through the chatter:
"Well, well, well... look who's popular today," Ryan said, leaning against the edge of your booth, arms crossed, smirk fully deployed.
You glanced up, suppressing a laugh.
"Oh great, the jealous rich boy appears," you said. "What brings you here? Catwalk practice?"
"Ha!" he said, pretending to be offended. "I came to... observe the competition."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Observe? You mean, stalk?"
He leaned closer, smirk widening.
"Semantics," he murmured. "Besides, someone needs to make sure no one steals my favorite entertainment."
You laughed, shaking your head. "You know, you could just... talk to me. Not everyone thinks being dramatic is cute."
Ryan tilted his head, mock offended.
"Cute? I'm not cute. I'm terrifyingly charming."
As if on cue, Matthew, Elijah, and Romeo appeared nearby, giving exaggerated thumbs-up and winks in Ryan's direction.
"Oh my gosh," you whispered, smirking. "Even your friends are cheering for your ridiculousness."
Ryan rolled his eyes dramatically.
"They're just... acknowledging talent," he said. "Clearly, I have skills in... supervision."
Before you could respond, another student approached your booth, chatting with you excitedly. Ryan immediately stepped forward, pretending to "help," but loudly cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention:
"Step aside, civilians! This is a high-level operation," he announced, pointing at your sign-up sheet like a general commanding his troops.
You blinked, holding back a laugh.
"High-level? Really? It's just a club sign-up, Ryan."
He leaned in dramatically, whispering into your ear:
"I prefer to elevate everything to... epic proportions."
You elbowed him lightly.
"Epic proportions? More like over-the-top jealous rich boy proportions."
Ryan didn't miss a beat.
"Jealous? Me? Never."
He smirked, glancing at a student who had been chatting with you.
"Just... carefully supervising," he murmured.
"Uh-huh," you said, smirking. "Very 'supervisory' of you."
Then he grabbed a flyer and theatrically held it above his head, waving it like a flag.
"Attention, citizens! Only the finest entertainment is permitted here!"
The students around burst out laughing.
You put your hands on your hips, grinning.
"You're ridiculous."
Ryan leaned closer, voice low and teasing:
"And you love it."
"Love it?" you asked, smirking. "Please. I tolerate it... occasionally."
He shrugged, pretending to be hurt.
"Tolerate? Harsh. I was going for admiration."
You shook your head, laughing. "Fine. I'll admire your theatrics... from a safe distance."
Ryan narrowed his eyes, leaning in with mock menace:
"Safe distance? Not on my watch."
At that moment, he bumped your arm "accidentally" while reaching for a pen, sending your sign-up papers fluttering everywhere. Students around gasped, and you scrambled to grab them.
"Ryan!" you exclaimed, laughing. "Seriously! You call that supervision?"
He grinned, hands in the air innocently.
"I call it... ensuring maximum chaos."
You snorted, shaking your head.
"Well, mission accomplished, Agent Chaos."
He leaned closer, smirk softening, eyes twinkling.
"And you... are my favorite distraction."
You laughed, rolling your eyes, but your heart was doing backflips.
"Favorite distraction, huh? Keep talking like that and I might start believing you."
"Good," he said, winking. "Belief is half the fun."
The day continued like this: Ryan "helping" (aka causing chaos), students giggling at his antics, and you laughing along-because honestly? Life was way more fun with him around, even if he was annoyingly dramatic and ridiculously jealous.
By the end of the day, your booth was a mess, Ryan was still smirking like he'd conquered the world, and somehow, you had never had so much fun on campus.
It was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the campus lawn with your friends, sipping iced tea and laughing over some memes. The sun was warm, the campus buzzing. Life felt... peaceful-until a familiar voice echoed across the grass.
"Hey, you!"
You looked up and froze.
It was Ethan-your childhood friend. The one you'd followed everywhere as a kid, climbing trees, racing through puddles, and trying to "win" every silly game he started.
And now... he was the basketball team captain, tall, confident, and ridiculously popular.
"Wow... it's really you!" you said, standing up in surprise. "I didn't know you were at... wait... you go here?"
"Yeah," Ethan laughed, running a hand through his hair, grin lighting up his face. "Just transferred this year. Can't believe we ended up at the same school!"
Before you could gush any further, Ryan appeared beside you like he had sprung from the ground. Arms crossed, smirk firmly in place-but his eyes had a sharper edge this time: jealousy.
"Well, well, well... look who it is," Ryan muttered, voice low and smooth. "Seems like I have... competition."
"Competition?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, already laughing. "Ryan! He's my childhood friend!"
"Childhood friend?" Ryan repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Cute. Very cute. But trust me... I don't care how long you've known him. He's not winning anything here."
You couldn't help grinning at Ryan's obvious jealousy.
"Relax, rich boy. We didn't exactly grow up in the same class... and we weren't exactly rivals... more like... I followed him everywhere."
Ryan's smirk narrowed, eyes flicking to Ethan, who was still beaming at you like nothing unusual was happening.
"Ah," Ryan murmured, leaning closer, voice low and teasing. "So this is the legendary 'favorite distraction' you've been talking about."
You laughed, shaking your head.
"Ryan! Don't call him that!"
Ethan blinked, confused.
"Uh... am I interrupting something?"
Ryan's smirk widened.
"Not exactly... just... making sure my favorite distraction doesn't wander off."
You covered your face with your hands, suppressing laughter.
"Oh my gosh... Ryan, you are ridiculous."
Ryan's eyes flicked back to you, smirk teasing and intense.
"Ridiculous? Maybe. But you... love it."
You peeked through your fingers, smirking.
"Maybe I tolerate it," you corrected.
Ryan leaned closer, voice husky and playful.
"Tolerate? I prefer to think of it as... secretly enjoying it."
Ethan stepped back, scratching his head.
"Uh... wow. I did not sign up for this."
You laughed outright, shaking your head.
"Ryan... chill. It's just... Ethan. I grew up with him."
Ryan raised an eyebrow, mock offense in his tone.
"Grew up? That's cute. But old history doesn't matter. Presently? I'm your distraction. I win."
You shook your head, laughing so hard you nearly fell onto the grass.
"Ryan, seriously... you are impossible."
Ryan leaned in one last time, brushing your arm lightly.
"And you... secretly love that I am."
You glanced at Ethan, who finally started laughing too, shaking his head in disbelief.
"This is... insane," he muttered.
You turned to Ryan, smirking, matching his teasing tone.
"Yeah, Ryan. Insane... but entertaining."
Ryan grinned, satisfied, eyes sparkling.
"Exactly," he said. "And don't forget-I always play to win."
And just like that, the lawn turned into a battlefield of teasing, jealousy, nostalgia, and sparks, with you caught right in the middle, laughing harder than you had in weeks.
The school was over, and the hallway was quiet. Laughter and chatter had faded down the corridor, leaving only the echo of your footsteps as you stacked papers at the table, returning materials.
You felt it before you saw him-Ryan's presence.
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smirk in place, eyes trailing you with that unnervingly calm confidence.
"You're still here," he murmured, pushing off the frame and stepping into the room.
I didn't turn around. "Some of us actually help," I said, tone casual.
Ryan chuckled softly, low and smooth. "Helping, huh? Is that what we're calling it?" His voice was teasing, but there was something darker under the playful tone.
Before you could respond, he closed the distance, hands resting lightly on your hips. "You know," he murmured, lips brushing your ear, "there are better ways to... help."
You tensed, though outwardly calm. "Better ways? I'm sure I can handle my methods."
His fingers tightened slightly, chest pressing closer to your back. "Like this," he whispered huskily. "Helping each other... understand."
You finally turned, arms crossed, smirking. "Or just not impressed by you?"
His eyes flashed with equal parts annoyance and challenge. "Is that what you think?" The room seemed smaller suddenly, quiet but charged.
You stepped around the table, intending to leave, but he moved-effortlessly blocking your path without touching you. Not yet.
"Ryan," you warned, lifting a brow, "you're in my way."
He smirked, voice smooth, playful, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Am I?" he murmured. "Maybe I like the view from here."
You opened your mouth to reply, but he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to stop him.
You didn't.
Your breaths mingled. You noticed the faint scar near his eyebrow, the way his eyes flicked to your lips and lingered. The tension was... electric.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice low and husky.
You smiled, despite your racing heart. "You're bold for someone who claims he isn't interested."
Ryan's smirk turned darker, more teasing. "Or just... honest?" His lips brushed yours as he spoke, dangerously close.
You leaned in slightly, enough to feel the warmth of him. Just a fraction closer.
Your noses brushed. Just as your heart threatened to leap, the door swung open with a loud creak.
Both of you jumped apart, almost comically, like guilty teenagers.
Ryan's eyes widened for a split second, then his calm, composed smirk returned.
"Ah... Mr. Thompson," he said smoothly, masking the frustration and longing he'd just felt.
You rolled your eyes, straightening papers. "Really? Right now?"
Ryan's voice was low, teasing, with a hint of challenge. "Timing is everything. But don't think this ends here."
You glanced at him, smirking, secretly thrilled by how flustered he looked despite his smooth exterior. "Oh, I know," you said, voice soft but playful. "And I can't wait to see your next move."
He leaned back slightly, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking to yours one last time before giving a low, confident chuckle. "Good. I like a challenge."
You laughed quietly, shaking your head, your heart still racing. This battle wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
The next morning, the campus buzzed with energy, but you felt it immediately-that something-happened energy.
Whispers, side glances, and smirks followed you as you walked toward class.
You told yourself to act normal.
You failed.
There he was. Ryan, leaning casually against the lockers with his friends, laughing about something insignificant. Then his eyes lifted. And landed on you.
The laughter stopped-just enough for you to notice.
Our eyes locked. For half a second, neither of us moved.
You looked away first, pretending to be engrossed in your phone-even though the screen was still locked. Smooth, Alley.
You passed by, keeping your pace steady, but then...
"Hey," Ryan's voice cut through the hallway. Smooth. Confident. Low.
He pushed off the lockers and fell into step beside you. His presence was like a storm quietly rolling in. His friends watched, intrigued and slightly amused.
"Morning," he said-just one word, calm, no teasing, no smirk. Careful. Dangerous.
You forced a casual nod, heart racing.
"Morning."
Ryan's eyes held yours, searching, intense. "Listen..." he began, lowering his voice slightly. "About yesterday-"
One of his friends snorted. "Damn, did we interrupt something?"
Ryan didn't break eye contact. "No. You didn't," he said calmly, jaw tightening.
You raised an eyebrow, teasing lightly. "Good. Wouldn't want rumors."
His gaze sharpened slightly, flicker of annoyance crossing his eyes. Voice low, sharp: "Is that what you think this is?"
Heat crept up your neck. You stepped closer, lowering your voice just enough to tease him back. "Sometimes... rumors stop when people learn how to behave."
Ryan leaned in slightly, breath warm against your ear. "Is that what you want? Me to... behave?"
You smirked, heart racing but confident. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how long you can hold back."
His eyes darkened, searching yours, voice low and husky. "I'm not sure I know how," he murmured. "Not when it comes to you."
You bit back a laugh, shaking your head. "Clearly. You're testing your self-control before class."
Ryan's lips twitched into a smirk, subtle but dangerous. "Self-control? I think it's been overestimated."
You stepped back, pretending to adjust your bag, letting the tension linger. "Well, you'll have plenty of practice."
He leaned in closer again, voice teasing but sharp. "Oh? And what makes you so confident I'll behave?"
You smirked, glancing sideways at him, playful. "Because... I've seen you when you're... not exactly behaving."
His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing-but there was that flicker of admiration hidden behind the teasing annoyance. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
"Maybe," you said lightly, smiling to yourself. "But it's more fun that way."
He muttered under his breath, almost to himself: "Damn it..." His eyes didn't leave yours. "Every time."
You walked away, casually swinging your bag over your shoulder, voice sweet but teasing: "See you around, Ryan."
He ran a hand through his hair, muttering again, frustrated but fascinated. "Nothing... nothing at all," he snapped when one of his friends whispered, "What the hell is going on with you two?"
His eyes stayed on the spot where you had disappeared.
But you knew-he was already planning his next move.
And the battle wasn't over.
My phone buzzed just as I stepped out of class.
"Unknown Contact*
"About yesterday."
I stopped walking.
Of course it was him.
I stared at the screen for a second longer than necessary before typing back. "what about it"sent
Ryan's response came almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your reply.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Ryan messaged "You left before we finished that conversation."
I let out a soft breath, leaning against the hallway wall and reply
Pretty sure it ended when we almost caused a scene.
My heart did something stupid.
I typed, deleted, then typed again and reply "Careful. You said you weren't interested in "more than entertainment."
Ryan's response was immediate, his tone sharp and defensive.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Ryan messaged "I didn't say I wasn't interested in you. Just... complications."
I swallowed.
Students passed by, laughing, talking-completely unaware of the tension buzzing in my palm and reply "So why message me now?"
Ryan's reply came after a brief pause, his tone softer but still guarded.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Ryan messaged "Because I can't stop thinking about you."
I smirked despite myself and reply
"That sounds like a you problem."
Ryan's response came quickly, his tone playful but with an undercurrent of frustration.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Ryan messaged "Ah, so now it's a problem?"
A second later-
"Then help me solve it."
*"Coffee. After your shift. Just talk."
I hesitated... just long enough to keep him guessing.abd reply
"One coffee. And no games."
Ryan's reply was immediate, his tone relieved and excited.
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Ryan messaged "Deal. No games. Just... us."
I locked my phone, pulse racing.
Unfinished, indeed.
By the time you arrived, Ryan was already there. Of course he was. Leaning against the counter, arms crossed, smirk in place, watching you like he'd been practicing this moment in his head all day.
"Late?" you asked lightly, trying to hide your racing heart.
"Not at all," he said smoothly, stepping closer. "I like watching you work."
You rolled your eyes, leaning over to start prepping drinks. "Uh-huh. Just entertainment, right?"
Ryan's smirk widened. "Maybe... but you make it hard to resist."
You shook your head, smiling under your breath. "You always think you're in control, don't you?"
He leaned casually against the counter, watching your movements. "Control is... relative," he murmured. "Sometimes I just like the chaos."
You glanced at him, a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Chaos, huh? Well, good luck. I'm an expert."
Ryan's gaze flicked to yours, dark, amused, and challenging. "I'm up for the challenge. I thrive in chaos."
You handed him his drink, fingers brushing briefly. Sparks, of course. You smirked. "Careful. I don't hand out victories so easily."
His eyes gleamed, confident but undeniably amused. "I don't want them easily. I like the chase."
And just like that, the quiet little coffee shop felt like the center of the most intense, teasing battle of your life. One where laughter, sparks, and stolen glances became the rules of the game-one that neither of you wanted to end.
We ordered. Silence followed-but not the empty kind. The kind that pressed in on my chest.
When our drinks arrived, our fingers brushed as we reached for the tray.
Electric.
I pulled back first. He didn't miss it.
Ryan's eyes flicked to my hand, then back to my face. He took a slow sip of his coffee, gaze never leaving mine.
"So," he began, setting his cup down carefully, "no games, right?"
"You flinch every time," he added softly.
"I don't," I replied, wrapping my hands around my cup.
His lips quirked up in a small, knowing smile. "You do," he insisted gently. "Every time our fingers touch."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering, almost a whisper.
I met his gaze evenly. "Maybe I'm deciding whether you're worth the trouble."
His knee brushed mine under the table-accidental, maybe. Neither of us moved it away.
"I didn't expect you to agree to this," he admitted.
"Why?" I asked, smirking.
Ryan's gaze darkened, searching mine like he could see right through me. "Because you're... different," he murmured, voice barely audible over the hum of the coffee shop. "You don't back down. You don't... flatter me."
I raised an eyebrow, teasing lightly. "Someone like me?"
Ryan's lips curved into a small, self-deprecating smile. "Exactly," he said softly. "Someone like... me."
His knee pressed gently against mine again, a silent apology-or a subtle test. I took a slow sip of my drink, trying to act casual.
"At least you're self-aware," I said, smirking.
He chuckled softly, warm and genuine. "I try," he replied, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's not easy being perfect, you know."
"Then why keep coming back?" I asked, teasing but curious.
His smile faded slightly, expression serious, gaze locked with mine. "Because," he said softly, "you make me want to be better."
The air tightened, thick with unspoken tension.
I leaned in just enough to lower my voice. "This is where you decide if you're serious... or just curious."
Ryan's eyes darkened at my words, gaze sharpening. He leaned in closer, voice barely a whisper. "I'm serious," he murmured. "About you."
He leaned in too, our faces inches apart. I could feel the warmth of his breath, the subtle pull between us.
"I'm past curious," he murmured again, his lips almost brushing mine.
My heart raced.
Then-
"RYAN?!"
We froze. I pulled back instantly as Matthew stood near the counter, staring at us like he'd walked into a crime scene.
Ryan straightened, expression calm and indifferent. "Matthew," he said smoothly, not bothering to stand.
Matthew's eyes narrowed, gaze flicking between the two of us. "Seriously? Right here? Right now?"
I stood, grabbing my bag, smirking despite the situation. "Looks like your honesty test just got interrupted."
Ryan's smirk returned, faint but dangerous. "Seems so," he said quietly, voice low and teasing. "Guess I'll have to finish it... later."
I shot him a wink before turning toward the door, leaving him standing there, smirk unwavering but eyes tracking me like a predator.
Matthew muttered under his breath, muttering something about "you two being impossible," while Ryan simply shook his head, muttering softly:
"Impossible... but worth it."
The next morning, I found a small envelope on my desk. My name was written neatly on the front, in a familiar hand.
Inside was a note and a small key.
The note read:
Meet me at the old boathouse by the lake tonight at 9 p.m. Come alone.
A simple map was drawn below, marking the location.
The key was attached to a small, elegant keychain with the initials R.H.-Ryan's initials.
No games. Just us.
That didn't sound like the Ryan everyone knew. That sounded... nervous.
All day, I couldn't focus. Lectures blurred. My pen hovered over my notebook, doodling his initials in the margins before I caught myself and crossed them out.
9 p.m.
The old boathouse stood silent, creaking softly in the evening breeze. A faint light flickered through the cracked windows.
I pushed the door open.
Ryan was inside, standing behind a small lantern on a makeshift table. He had changed out of his designer clothes, now in a simple black sweater and jeans. The shadows danced across his face, softening the sharpness I was used to seeing. He looked... different. Vulnerable.
"Hey," he said softly, eyes searching mine. "You came."
"Of course I did," I replied quietly. "You don't usually ask for things like this."
He ran a hand through his hair, lips curling into a self-deprecating smile. "No, I don't. I'm... not good at this."
I softened, stepping slightly closer. "And what do you want from me, Ryan?"
His breath hitched. He closed the distance, hand hovering above my cheek before gently cupping it. His voice was barely a whisper:
"Not just... physically, though God knows I think about that constantly. I want... your honesty. Your strength. Your ability to see through my bullshit."
I took a step closer, so close our breaths mingled. "I don't promise easy."
Ryan's thumb brushed my cheekbone, feather-light. "I don't expect easy," he murmured. "I expect real."
His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining. His hand lifted slowly, giving me space to pull away. I didn't. His touch was warm and steady this time.
"No games," I reminded him softly.
"No games," he agreed, voice husky, filled with something I'd never heard before. "Just us."
He leaned in, lips hovering just above mine, giving me one last chance to step back. The world outside the boathouse seemed to vanish. His hand held mine-steady, comforting, and patient.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, lips brushing mine with each word. "Tell me this is a mistake."
I stepped closer. So did he.
Our foreheads touched first-barely-but enough that I could feel his breath, steady but shallow.
"If this happens," I murmured softly, "it's not because you're Ryan the popular guy. It's... because of you. Not the image everyone sees."
His eyes fluttered closed, a shuddering breath escaping. "I know," he murmured. "It's because you're... you."
His hand slid gently to my waist, slow enough that I could stop him. I didn't.
The other hand brushed my cheek, warm, careful-like he was afraid I'd disappear if he moved too fast.
The moment stretched, thick with anticipation and unspoken emotions. His eyes searched mine.
"Can I...?" he asked softly.
I nodded.
Then his lips met mine.
Soft. Gentle. Questioning. Not rushed, not rough.
I kissed him back before he could pull away, hand curling into the fabric of his sweater, grounding us both.
Ryan's lips curved into a smile against mine. His hand slid from my cheek to tangle in my hair. The kiss deepened-more confident, more passionate, a perfect mix of tenderness and desire.
When we finally pulled back, breathing in unison, he rested his forehead against mine. "I've wanted to do that... for a long time," he admitted softly.
I laughed lightly, breathless. "You could have just asked."
He grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief and something tender. "And ruin the anticipation?"
"You're impossible," I whispered, smiling, heart still racing.
"But worth it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "Always worth it."
The lantern light flickered around us, casting long shadows as we stood there, fingers intertwined, hearts pounding in sync, and the world outside the boathouse completely forgotten.