The lecture finally settled down when the professor walked in, his voice cutting through the hum of chatter. He went on about theories, chapters, and deadlines, his tone dry enough to suck the air out of the room.
But then he dropped the line that snapped everyone awake.
"Your next assignment will be done in pairs," he announced, adjusting his glasses. "I'll decide the groupings. No complaints."
The room erupted with groans and whispered prayers. Some students leaned toward their friends, hoping they'd be matched up. Others just sank into their chairs, already hating the idea.
I leaned back, hands in my pockets, pretending not to care.
That's when Aimee's name got called.
"And Aimee… with Kael."
The whole class tilted. Not literally but I felt it. Aimee froze for half a beat, her pen hovering midair, then she lowered it slowly. Her calm face didn't give much away, but the faintest curve tugged her lips—a quiet, almost shy smile that seemed meant only for me.
It was nothing dramatic. No flip of the hair. No curve of the hips. Just a look.
But damn, it landed harder than anything Mia had thrown all week.
Jace leaned over, whispering just loud enough for Malik to catch. "Bro… BRO. You hit the jackpot. Aimee? With you? God's playing favorites."
Malik grinned. "Nah, nah. That's fate. Don't blow this, Kael."
I ignored them, or at least tried to. My eyes lingered on Aimee for too long before I snapped them away.
Across the aisle, Mia's lips tightened. Her fingers tapped her desk, slow, deliberate. She masked it with a stretch and a smirk, but I saw it—the burn behind her glittering eyes.
The rest of the class carried on, the professor calling out more pairs, handing out instructions, stacking the workload. But for me, the air had shifted.
Mia was still circling, hungry, fire in her every move. But Aimee…
Aimee had just stepped into the light without even trying.
And somehow, she burned quieter yet deeper.
...
The library was buzzing that afternoon, students scattering into corners with books and laptops for the new assignment.
Aimee and I claimed a table near the back. She sat across at first, spreading her notes in neat, careful lines, her handwriting looping delicate and precise. I leaned against my chair, pretending to focus, though my eyes drifted to her more than the pages in front of me.
We traded ideas, half-serious, half-distracted by the hum of the room. Aimee's voice was softer than I expected measured, a little shy, but each word seemed chosen, dipped in warmth.
Then it happened.
Her pen rolled off the edge of the table, clattering quietly against the floor by my chair. I didn't notice until Aimee pushed her chair back, leaning down slightly to retrieve it.
My chest tightened.
The skirt she wore shifted with her movement, the light fabric brushing up as she bent over. And underneath lace, sheer enough to reveal the curve of her hips, the delicate line of her netted pants clinging to her every shape.
I froze. My throat went dry.
Before I could drag my eyes away, she straightened, pen in hand. But as she did, her shoulder brushed against my arm then more. Her chest pressed lightly against me, just for a second. Soft. Unmistakable.
A spark shot through me.
Her cheeks flushed as she realized, pulling back quickly, eyes flicking down. A small smile curved her lips, but she kept her face lowered.
"Sorry…" she whispered, her voice low, almost musical. The shy smile lingered as she tucked her pen behind her notebook, like she hadn't just knocked the air clean out of my lungs.
I swallowed, hard. Couldn't even think of a reply.
The silence burned, charged with something unspoken. She returned to her notes, pretending to write, though her glittering eyes flicked up every so often just enough to catch mine, then dart away.
And that was the moment I knew Aimee didn't need to try. She didn't plot like Mia, didn't push heavy moves. She just was. And that was more dangerous than anything else.
.....
Aimee kept her head bent over her notebook, her pen moving in small strokes, but the air between us was no longer the same. Each time she leaned forward, the faint scent of her perfume teased me something light, floral, almost too soft to notice, yet impossible to ignore.
And then her eyes
She'd glance up quickly, catching mine for a second. Just a flicker, then back to her notes. Another glance, this one longer, her lips pressed together as if she were holding back a laugh.
I shifted in my chair, heat creeping down my neck.
That's when I noticed them my friends across the room.
Jacob and the others were sitting two tables back, pretending to study but doing a terrible job at it. The moment Aimee's pen dropped earlier, they had already started nudging each other, smirking. Now every time her eyes flicked to mine, they saw it too.
Jacob mouthed something exaggerated—"Damn" before throwing a ridiculous wink my way. Another friend, Mark, gave me a mock thumbs-up, biting his lip like some bad actor. They were enjoying every second of this.
I shook my head, trying to focus on my paper. But Aimee leaned in again, pointing to a line in the book, and her hair brushed against my arm.
That was it. Jacob nearly choked on his laugh. Mark slapped his hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking. Their muffled snickering was loud enough to draw a few glares from other tables.
Aimee, bless her, pretended not to notice. She just tilted her head, her voice soft:
"You… understand this part better than me, don't you?"
The words slid into me like fire disguised as innocence.
Before I could answer, Jacob's partner stormed over. a sharp-eyed girl with a stack of books clutched in her hands. She dropped one right on our table with a thud.
"Kael," she said flatly, pointing at Jacob with her chin. "You're teaching him. He's over there smirking and laughing while we're getting serious work done. I can't deal with him anymore."
I blinked, caught between the heat from Aimee's closeness and the weight of her demand. Jacob waved lazily from the back, still laughing.
"Man, she's right," Mark called, grinning. "Help him out before he fails. And Kael don't get too distracted over there."
Their teasing laughter followed, half-whispered, half-blurted.
Aimee ducked her head, cheeks pink, but I swore I saw the corner of her lips twitch almost a smile, hidden.
And just as the moment stretched
A shadow moved at the doorway.
Mia.
Her pink hair caught the light as she stepped inside, files tucked against her chest. She glanced around casually, then her gaze locked on me and then on Aimee, sitting so close across from me.
Her lips curved, not into a smile, but into something sharper. Knowing. Dangerous.
And in that instant, I felt the shift.
Aimee's quiet fire.
My friends' mocking signals.
And Mia watching.
Like the game had only just begun.
.....
Mia leaned against the doorframe, arms folded loosely under her chest, that sly smile curling her lips. She didn't need to be loud, didn't need to make a scene. He's already mine whenever I decide, her eyes seemed to whisper. Every sway of her hips earlier, every calculated lean and brush, had already planted its seeds in Kael's mind. She was patient. Predators usually were.
But Aimee—Aimee wasn't playing a game. That was the difference. She wasn't plotting her every move; she was simply being herself. And somehow, that made the heat even stronger. Her laughter, soft but catching, rolled into Kael's chest when Jacob made one of his usual stupid jokes. She covered her lips with the back of her hand, shy, almost like she hated drawing too much attention.
Kael caught himself watching her again. It wasn't her clothes this time, or the way her skirt clung when she leaned forward it was her warmth. The way her eyes lit up when she explained a line of the assignment, her hair falling over one side of her cheek as if the light itself wanted to kiss her first.
His friends noticed. Of course they did.
"Damn, Kael," one of them whispered from behind, grinning. "First Mia tries to get you with that hips attack, now Aimee's burning you alive without even knowing it. Bro, if I was you"
"you'd ruin it in five seconds," Jacob cut in, laughing. "Man, if I had the chance—no, if any of us had that chance"
Kael shook his head, smirking, trying to play it cool even though his ears burned. "You guys are ridiculous. Focus on your work."
But Aimee's pen slipped again. This time she didn't bend as far, just leaned slightly, her perfume brushing the air between them. She smiled faintly apologetic, shy, but there was something else there too. Something Kael couldn't name yet.
And in the back of the room, Mia's eyes narrowed not in anger, but in amusement. She knew the slow burn game too. She tilted her head, brushing her pink hair back, still smiling like the devil who had all the time in the world.
Kael was in the middle. One girl's quiet fire, another girl's dangerous storm.
And the rest of the class? They were already starting to notice.
...
The classroom buzzed faintly with voices—pairs working on their assignments, pages flipping, pens scratching. But for Kael, it all blurred, because Aimee was right there. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin whenever she leaned in.
Her hair brushed his arm as she bent to jot something on her notebook. The faint floral perfume drifted up, tugging at his senses, softer than Mia's wild bite of perfume but somehow more dangerous because it wasn't trying.
Then it happened again her pen slipped from her fingers and rolled under his chair. This time, she didn't hesitate. She leaned, slow and unhurried, just enough for Kael to catch the delicate curve of her hips under her skirt, the way her thighs pressed as she bent, her netted fabric clinging like it was painted onto her. His throat went dry.
When she came up, her shoulder brushed his chest, and her breasts soft, unintentional, but undeniable pressed lightly into his arm. Aimee froze for half a second, then let out a tiny nervous laugh. Her face flushed as she tilted her gaze downward.
"Sorry," she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her lips curled in that shy little smile, and damn if that didn't pull Kael's stomach into knots.
Behind them, Jacob whistled low, catching the moment. "Man… man. Bro, if you don't "
"Shut it," Kael muttered, shooting him a glare, but his friends only chuckled harder.
"Kael's living the dream, huh?" another boy whispered loud enough for half the row to hear. "First the rep, now Aimee… dude's a magnet."
Kael rolled his eyes, but his pulse betrayed him, thundering in his chest. Because the truth was, he did feel it the brush, the press, the quiet tease that wasn't even meant as one. His body caught fire every time she moved too close.
And Aimee… she knew. Or maybe she didn't. That was the worst part. She bit her lip, kept her focus on her notebook, scribbling notes like nothing happened. But her cheeks stayed flushed, and every so often her eyes flicked up to his, then darted away again like she was afraid to get caught.
From the far corner, Mia watched the entire scene unfold. Her smile curved sharper now, less patient, more wolfish. She didn't mind Aimee's little moment in the spotlight. Because Mia knew her game wasn't soft touches or shy smiles. Hers was fire and claws, and she had every intention of reminding Kael soon enough.
For now, though, Kael was left simmering between the two flames his friends laughing and joking in the background, Aimee's quiet fire at his side, and Mia's storm waiting in the shadows.