Kai’s mother came in a few minutes later with a tray of refreshments — lemonade, crackers, some fancy-looking biscuits I didn’t dare touch. She smiled politely, said something about needing to finish up in the kitchen, and left us to it.
We managed to cover most of the work. In between, there were pockets of lightness — random jokes, casual jabs. Kai talked a lot, and somehow made it not annoying. She was funny in that dry, effortless way that made you forget you were in a stranger’s house miles away from anything remotely normal.
But I kept noticing it.
That scent.
Like… rain. But not the clean kind — stronger. Metallic. Too sharp to be weather, too faint to call out loud. I told myself maybe it was just the study room. It was tucked far in the corner of the house, where old wood and moisture probably got along a little too well.
Still. A house in the middle of nowhere? Who does that?
Sometimes, I wondered if I’d just walked straight into some serial killer’s lair. And the worst part? I knew better. My survival instincts were kicking in every few minutes like faulty fire alarms. But I stayed.
My pepper spray was somewhere in my bag — I never left home without it. Mom made sure of that. Even now, living on my own, the habit stuck. And if this was my last day on Earth, at least I’d go with some dignity. With honour. Swinging. Not silent.
But this was ridiculous. Kai had been nothing but nice the whole time.
Still.
The way she kept looking at me — when she thought I wasn’t paying attention — it was strange. Not creepy exactly. Just… focused. Like she was trying to figure out where to put the scalpel.
She even ordered pizza for us — extra cheese, thick crust — with energy drinks and a ridiculous amount of snacks. I hadn’t asked for any of it. I’d just mumbled something lame when her mom offered dinner — something like “I’m not hungry, thank you” — while my stomach literally tried to expose me on the spot.
I was too scared to go downstairs. The house was beautiful, sure, but it felt… off. Like I was one wrong step from becoming a headline.
So Kai, probably sensing all of this, didn’t argue. She just nodded and, twenty minutes later, slipped out to meet the delivery guy like it was nothing. No fuss. No teasing. When she came back, she tossed me a soda and a slice like we’d done this a million times before.
“Nathan should have been here by now,” she said, glancing at the wall clock. It was just after 8 p.m.
My heart sank a little.
It was getting late. I had a session tomorrow morning. And technically, I was still in the middle of nowhere, with a girl I’d only known for — what — two classes?
The pizza didn’t help my nerves. Neither did the sound of wind rattling something against the side of the house.
“You think he forgot?” I asked, trying to sound chill but absolutely not chill.
She gave a small shrug. “Maybe. Or he’s just late. He’s always late.”
Kai said it like she wasn’t worried. But I caught the flicker of something in her eyes — a pause too long, a blink too slow.
I didn’t even ask who Nathan was. Probably the family driver or something. I was picturing a middle-aged man with slightly white hair, one of those stoic types who preferred being called by his name — “Just Nathan,” like he’d correct you if you tried “Mr.”
“I’ll just give him a call,” Kai said, already reaching for her phone.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, shifting awkwardly. I’d been holding it for half an hour, silently praying I’d make it home first. Clearly, that wasn’t happening.
She nodded toward the hallway. “Second door on the left.”
The walk there felt longer than it should’ve. Every floorboard creaked. The air still carried that strange, heavy scent — like rain and ozone and something older than both. I told myself it was just an old house. Old houses smell weird. That’s a fact.
The bathroom was surprisingly clean. Not the eerie, horror-movie type I’d imagined. Minimalistic. Soft towels. A nice citrusy soap that made me suspicious for different reasons — like who lives out here and still bothers with lemon verbena handwash?
I did my business, washed up, stared at myself in the mirror a little too long. My eyes looked tired. Not the cute tired — the ‘you’re-one-strange-creak-away-from-panicking’ kind.
When I stepped back into the hallway, everything was… quieter.
Too quiet.
“Kai?” I called out, but my voice felt thin.
No answer.
I grabbed my bag from the study room and walked into the hallway again.Just as I was about to say screw it , I heard her voice — soft, calm — from downstairs.
Then footsteps. Slow. Confident. But what threw me off was that the voice—Kai’s—sounded closer. Like she was already near me, talking from the top of the stairs.
But the steps were still coming up.
Five feet away, maybe less.
My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag.
“Wanna give the poor girl a heart attack?” Kai’s voice floated into the hall, amused, lazy.
Then a deeper voice answered, smoother than I was prepared for. The kind of voice that didn’t rush, because it knew people would listen.
“Oh, come on. I’m only ten minutes late,” he said. “I was busy. This is an exception—and she better be worth all the scolding.”
I blinked.
She?
And then he came into view.
Not middle-aged. Not graying. Not the Nathan I had in mind.
He stepped into view like he knew he’d be seen.
Not the driver.
Not even close.
Tall. Broad shoulders under a black hoodie that looked soft as sin. Grey joggers low on his hips. Veins subtly visible on his forearms where his sleeves were pushed up — and his hands, God, his hands looked like they could lift a car but still undo a bra strap in one motion. His jaw was sharp, like he'd been sculpted to piss off any girl trying to stay sane. And then there were his eyes — warm brown, but with this steady, slow-lidded intensity that made it hard to breathe.
He wasn’t smiling fully. Just that low, crooked kind of grin that said he knew what he looked like and didn’t need to try.
Kai got this guy to pick us up?
Who was he?
“Zara, meet Nathan, my cousin” she said like she wasn’t unleashing hell on my nervous system. “Nathan, Zara.”
His eyes locked on mine — and stayed there.
Not a flick. Not a glance.
He looked at me like I was a question he wanted to answer. Like he already had a few ideas and none of them were innocent.
And still… he didn’t say much.
Didn’t have to.
His gaze dropped to my lips, barely a beat, then back to my eyes — quick enough to play it cool, slow enough for me to feel it. My pulse jumped. I was glad I hadn’t gone to dinner because if I had, I might’ve thrown up the nerves right there.
“So you’re the study partner,” he said, voice low, amused.
I didn’t answer.
Mostly because I forgot how to.
He leaned one shoulder against the wall like he had all night — like this wasn’t a school run but something else. Something slower. Closer. More dangerous.
What was Kai doing that I wasn’t? How does she keep ending up surrounded by guys like this — first Axel, now Nathan.
He looked like someone who drove fast with one hand on the wheel and the other up your thigh.
I tried to swallow that thought and failed.
Nathan’s eyes hadn’t left mine.
And the silence wasn’t awkward. It was… full. Like we were both pretending we didn’t feel it, but the tension had already curled its way into the space between us.
Kai tossed her head, clearly irritated. “Would you stop staring at her?”
Nathan’s smirk didn’t even falter, “Sure.”
But his eyes stayed on me.
And I hated the flush creeping up my neck. Hated that it made things obvious.
Kai narrowed her eyes at him. “Nathan. The drive?”
“Yeah,” he said — flat and easy.
He said it like fine, like you win, like happy now?
Nathan’s mouth curved again, barely. Like he’d clocked my silence, like it said more than words ever could. He didn’t push — just stepped aside and let me walk past him, and I caught a whiff of his cologne: something woodsy, sharp and clean. Not overpowering, but enough to make me close my eyes for half a second too long.
My spine straightened a little with him behind me kai just right beside me.
Nathan didn’t say anything as we moved toward the front door. But I could feel him behind me — not too close, not touching, just there. Solid. Tall. The kind of presence you didn’t need to see to know it was dangerous.
He opened the door before I could reach for it.
Of course he did.
“Ladies first,” he murmured.
His voice was low, smooth — not flirtatious. Just… aware.
Like he didn’t speak unless he meant it.
Like he knew how to hold power without needing to show it.
“You never open the door for me,” Kai said, trailing behind him.
He chuckled — quiet, amused. Like she was being dramatic. Or funny. Or both.
I stepped out into the cool air, suddenly more conscious of how I was walking. Was my skirt riding up? Did my legs look awkward? Was I overthinking every damn movement?
Kai brushed past both of us like this wasn’t anything. Like she didn’t notice the thick energy zipping between me and her cousin.
She definitely noticed.
Nathan locked the door behind us and clicked his keys.
A sleek black car purred alive in the driveway — something expensive-looking, like it came with a speed warning and a monthly heartbreak quota.
He walked around to the driver’s side. Didn’t rush. Just calm, casual — the kind of calm you only get when you're used to people looking.
I opened the back door, slipped in there and closed the door.
Kai slipped into the backseat too, on the other side — probably keeping me from feeling weird or awkward. Like a buffer. Like she knew what Nathan’s presence could do and wasn’t going to leave me to figure it out alone.
But he still looked at me in the mirror.
Just once. One glance.
Like he was checking something. Measuring.
Like he already knew I wasn’t just some girl Kai dragged along.
Then he faced forward again, hand resting on the gearshift. His fingers were long — the kind you notice. Silver ring on his middle finger, thick and worn like it meant something once. The kind of accessory that shouldn’t work on anyone… but somehow did on him.
The car moved smooth, quiet. Music low. Something older, bass-heavy. Not flashy. Not trying. Just atmosphere — confident without asking for attention.
Even his playlist had more sex appeal than most guys I’d met.
Kai was talking. Something about her psych class and a party this weekend. Her voice floated between us, easy, carefree. I tried to keep up — I really did — but the air in the car felt just a little too warm. Like the heat was creeping up my neck.
Or maybe that was just him.
Nathan turned, one hand tightening on the wheel as he pulled into the next lane. His forearm flexed slightly — subtle, clean muscle under ink — and I looked away too fast.
Felt it in my throat.
Damn. He smelled good. Expensive. Sharp. Like spice and smoke and whatever it is that makes your stomach tighten in the worst way. The kind of scent that lingers even when someone leaves.
“You okay back there?” he asked, casual. Lazy.
My eyes flicked up. His gaze caught mine in the rearview — direct, steady.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Kai snapped before I could answer.
I smirked — not because I thought it was funny. But because I knew that tone. She wasn’t mad. Just annoyed that once again, Nathan had turned up the heat without even trying.
Nathan didn’t apologize.
He just smiled.
Not wide. Not sorry.
Just the corner of his mouth, pulling slow, like he enjoyed getting under her skin.
Kai muttered something under her breath and went back to scrolling on her phone. Her reflection in the window blurred into streetlights.
Nathan leaned back like none of it mattered.
Like he hadn’t just tilted the whole energy of the car with one stupid glance.
And I hated that I noticed.
Worse, I hated that he probably knew I did.
I gave him the directions quieter than I meant to, voice low and a little breathy. My fingers curled in the hem of my sleeve, grounding myself in the fabric.
The city passed in streaks of light, but inside the car, the quiet felt thick — like if someone said the wrong thing, it would snap.
He didn’t speak much. Just the occasional hum. A shift of his eyes. But I felt him check the mirror again more than once.
And yeah, maybe I stared back once or twice.
But only because I wanted to understand what the hell it was about him that made everything suddenly feel more dangerous.
And why he kept staring at me like I was something worth looking at.
I ruled it out immediately — just a stupid crush. One of those random ticks your brain makes when you haven’t slept enough and your hormones decide to get creative. He probably had a whole checklist of girls just like me. One night, maybe two. Then he'd move on, all casual and bored like it meant nothing.
I lived with Emma. The biggest tick-off girl in the game. Trust me — I knew exactly how it worked.
If this was a crush? A little sleep and some distance would wipe it clean. Easy.
Besides, I’d never even dated before. Not seriously. Not at all, actually. And guys like Nathan?
They didn’t even make the list.
Not mine. In my mind I usually preferred the quiet ones, introverted — safe love. The kind that doesn’t just walk out on you. Statistically speaking, the chances of them ditching? Probably zero to five percent.
“Here,” I said, quieter than I meant to, grabbing my bag and cracking the door open.
“Good night, Zara,” Kai said beside me, casual.
“Night,” I said, slipping out.
Nathan didn’t say a word. Didn’t glance over. Didn’t shift. Hands gripped the wheel, veins flexed, jaw set.
I closed the car door and headed toward the front entrance as the car purred away behind me.
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