Ray Maddox's POV – Law Library, Monday Afternoon
She walks like the hallway owes her money.
Long, jet-black hair swinging down to her knees, skirt hugging every step, and those heels—fuck—those heels stabbing the ground like she's slaying gods. She's fire in a pencil skirt, and every dude we pass turns to look.
They don't dare talk to her.
She's Sky Valen.
And after last night, she should've been avoiding me. I kissed her hard enough to bruise, pinned her to stone with Brooklyn's skyline burning behind her. She kissed me back like sin was salvation. We should be pretending nothing happened.
But the moment she saw me in her seat this morning, her entire body stiffened.
She remembered.
So did I.
And now she's storming down the hall, vanilla oat latte in one hand, her Criminal Law textbook in the other, clearly heading to the only place she thinks she can breathe—the library.
I follow.
I'm not even trying to hide it.
She notices. Stops cold. Turns around.
"You fucking stalking me now?"
I grin. "You kissed me first."
She scoffs. "Yeah? You also bit my lip like a fucking savage. What's your point?"
"That you liked it."
"You're delusional, Maddox."
"And you're turned on."
Her eyes narrow. "Eat glass."
"You offering?"
She growls something under her breath and storms into the library. I trail behind like a shadow with a vendetta.
It's the quiet kind of chaos inside—rows of old wooden desks, warm yellow lighting, and walls stacked with books that smell like ambition and dust. Law students whisper like secrets might shatter them.
Sky heads to the corner desk in the back—the one surrounded by tall shelves and two dusty plants dying quietly. It's her spot. Everyone knows that. No one fucks with Sky's space.
Except me.
I sit across from her. Legs wide. Arms folded.
She slams her books down like she's exorcising a demon. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
I lean forward. "I can't focus since last night. Thought maybe seeing you squirm might help."
She lets out a slow, lethal breath. "God, you're such a—"
"—problem? Obsession? Distraction?" I tilt my head. "Say it, Valen."
She glares. "You're a fucking mistake."
I smile. "Then make it again."
She freezes. Just for a second. That's all I need. That flicker in her eyes—uncertainty wrapped in want.
"I'm trying to study," she mutters, flipping open her textbook. Her fingers are twitching. She's not reading. She's remembering. Last night.
I watch her lips. The ones I kissed until they were swollen.
"Need help focusing?" I ask, voice low and slow. "Want me to quiz you? Reward you for every right answer?"
Her eyes snap to mine, burning.
"I swear to God, Maddox—"
"—we didn't get to that part last night," I murmur. "But I'm open to roleplay."
Her cheeks flush and she hates that they do. I fucking love it.
She flips to another page like the law can save her from me.
Too late, baby.
I lean back, my foot brushing hers under the desk—accidentally on purpose. She jerks it back like I electrocuted her.
"Hands and feet to yourself," she hisses.
"I'm trying," I whisper, leaning in, just enough so she can smell my cologne. "But you look like a sin I'd commit twice."
Her eyes flick to my mouth.
We sit there, tension coiled like a wire about to snap. She tries to read. I don't move. Just watch her.
After five minutes, she slams her book shut, stands up so fast her chair screeches.
"I'm going to the bathroom. Alone."
I smirk. "You sure?"
She looks me dead in the eyes. "Touch me again, and I'll sue you for sexual harassment, you overgrown hormone."
Then she storms off.
And fuck, I've never wanted her more.