The Monday morning campus buzzed with the muted chaos of students rushing between buildings, clutching coffee cups like lifelines. Ava trudged across the courtyard with her sketchpad tucked under her arm, her mind still heavy from the weekend. Lena had already darted off to her own class, but not without smirking and whispering, "Try not to daydream about Mystery Muse or Zadu today." Ava had rolled her eyes, but her cheeks betrayed her.
By the time she reached the lecture hall, the good seats in the middle rows were mostly taken. She slipped into her usual spot near the window, pulling out her notes and willing herself to focus.
The scrape of a chair beside her made her glance up — and there he was. Nathan Cross.
He didn't normally sit here. In fact, she could count on one hand the number of times they'd been seated in the same row. Today, though, he dropped into the chair next to hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Morning," he said, low and smooth, as if they were already in on some private joke.
Ava blinked at him. "Morning."
He leaned back, stretching one arm casually along the back of her chair. "You looked like you needed good company today."
"Then why are you here?" she murmured, scribbling something in her notebook without looking at him.
He chuckled under his breath, clearly entertained. "Ouch. Starting the week with a hit to my ego?"
"I didn't know you had one."
His lips quirked. "Oh, I have one. You just bruise it more than most."
The professor started the lecture, but Nathan didn't seem remotely interested in the slides. Every few minutes, he leaned closer to whisper something in her ear — half the time a sarcastic comment about the lesson, the other half some sly observation about her.
"You've been sketching less," he murmured at one point, glancing at her closed sketchpad. "Let me guess… out of inspiration? Or maybe your favorite muse moved on?"
She stiffened, keeping her gaze on the front. "Some muses are overrated."
"Mm. Sounds like denial."
By the time the lecture wrapped up, Ava felt both irritated and oddly keyed up. Nathan stood, stretching lazily, and turned to her.
"Coffee?" he asked, like it was inevitable.
She hesitated. "I have—"
"Five minutes," he cut in smoothly. "Unless you're afraid of what might happen if we're left alone without a professor between us."
Her pulse gave an unhelpful jump. "You're ridiculous."
He grinned, already walking toward the door. "And yet, you're following me."
---
The coffee shop was warm and humming with low chatter, smelling faintly of cinnamon and espresso. Ava slid into a corner booth while Nathan strolled to the counter like he owned the place.
When he returned, he set a latte in front of her.
"I didn't ask for this," she said, arching a brow.
"You also didn't ask me to sit next to you in class," he replied easily, sliding into the seat across from her, "but here we are."
Her lips curved despite herself. "So now you're making coffee choices for me?"
"I'm good at reading people," he said, sipping his own drink — black, no sugar. "You seem like the latte type. Smooth, warm, a little sweet." His gaze flicked to her, deliberate. "Though you probably hate admitting the sweet part."
She rolled her eyes. "What does black coffee say about you?"
"That I'm straightforward. No frills. Gets the job done."
"Or bitter."
"Only when provoked." He leaned forward slightly. "Careful, Queen. You might start to like me."
"Doubtful," she said, but she was smiling now, the corner of her mouth betraying her.
They traded remarks between sips, the conversation darting from sarcastic jabs to random, oddly specific questions Nathan threw in just to catch her off guard.
"So… what's the most rebellious thing you've ever done?" he asked suddenly.
"Not telling you," she said, instantly suspicious.
"Ah, so it's good."
"Or embarrassing."
"I'm fine with both," he said smoothly, as if it didn't matter which she gave him — he'd still win.
When Ava glanced at her phone, her eyes widened. "I have to go."
Nathan tilted his head, watching her stand. "We should do this again."
"Coffee?"
"Or something stronger," he said, grinning. "Give me your number."
She narrowed her eyes. "What if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll just have to keep finding you in lecture halls until you cave. And you don't strike me as the type who enjoys losing."
Her phone was already in her hand, even as she tried to look unimpressed. "Don't make me regret this."
"No promises," he said, saving her contact with a flick of his thumb. "See you around, Ava."
She left telling herself she wouldn't think about him for the rest of the day.
And knew, deep down, she already was.
---
Nathan's POV
He didn't normally bother with this class. Not when he could slip into the back and disappear into the noise. But today, the sight of Ava already sitting by the window, oblivious to him, pulled him forward before he'd even decided to move.
Strategic positioning. That's what he told himself. Sitting next to her wasn't about proximity for its own sake — it was about access.
The gala replayed in his head. Ava laughing with Zadu, their shoulders brushing, her eyes lighting up in a way that made something sharp twist in his chest. He didn't like the feeling. So he turned it into something useful.
If Ava was the weaker link, she was also the most direct route to the Queens' private circle. Monica was guarded, calculating — Ava was… not. At least, not enough to see him coming.
And if seduction happened to be the easiest way in? Well, that was just another tool in the kit. She didn't need to know that every smile, every lean closer, every low-voiced comment was calculated.
Coffee was the next step. Not because he wanted to sit across from her and watch the way her fingers wrapped around a cup, or because he wanted to hear that unguarded laugh again. No.
This was for the mission.
Purely the mission.
---