Damien's eyes find mine in the crowd as he scans the bleachers. Maybe it's because we're sitting close to the field, but for a brief second, it feels like his gaze lingers longer than it should. I smile and wave before I even think about it.
Please win this game, I silently beg, so I won't feel guilty for distracting him.
"Oh my gosh," Stacey gasps beside me. "Is that Damien? He's a total hottie."
I nod, trying to sound casual. "Yup."
She laughs. "I've heard about him and Jake before. Campus stars, right? But wow, pictures don't do him justice. Look at his shoulders—"
"Okay, that's enough," I cut in with a little too much force. She raises an eyebrow at me, amused.
My stomach twists. Great. Now I'm jealous.
The whistle blows before I can overthink it. The game begins, fast and fierce. Damien takes the ball, running through the opposing defense with sharp precision. When he crosses the line and scores a touchdown, the crowd erupts.
My breath catches when he looks at me again.
No. He shouldn't do that. He can't look at me like that — not here, not in front of everyone.
I sit down quickly, heart pounding.
The game continues — tackles, passes, cheers — and Damien dominates. Each time he scores, my pulse races faster. And each time his eyes find mine, it feels harder to breathe.
Beside me, Stacey nudges my side, giggling. "You saw that, right? He keeps looking over here."
I don't respond. I can't. Because deep down, I know she's right.
By the time the game ends, the sky has turned dark and the crowd is alive with celebration. Our university wins, and cheers echo across the field.
Then, before I can blink, Damien removes his helmet and runs — straight toward the bleachers.
"Oh my god," Stacey whispers, half in shock, half thrilled.
My heart leaps into my throat as he climbs up the steps. He stops right in front of me, breathing hard from the game.
" Amelia," he says, his voice still rough with adrenaline.
I want to say something, anything, but the words won't come out.
"Wait for me," he says simply. "I'll drive you home."
And then he's gone again, heading toward the locker rooms, leaving me frozen under hundreds of curious stares.
---
🏠 Later That Night 🏠
I didn't plan for him to stay this long.
He drove me home, I invited him in for a drink, and somehow, we ended up sitting side by side on the living room floor surrounded by my textbooks and notes.
He offered to help me with my assignments — which sounded harmless at first. Until now.
Because every time he leans closer to explain something, my thoughts scatter. His voice is low, calm, and his scent — warm and steady — wraps around me like gravity.
"You might want to stop doing that," Damien says suddenly.
"Doing what?" I blink.
"Breathing like that," he teases. "People might get the wrong idea."
Heat floods my face. "I—I wasn't—"
He smirks, leaning back slightly, eyes gleaming. "Sure you weren't."
"Can we just focus?" I mumble, flipping through my notes. "You're supposed to be teaching me."
He tilts his head. "Depends. What exactly do you want me to teach you, Lia?"
His tone makes my heart stutter.
"Economics," I whisper, but it comes out weaker than I intend.
He doesn't look away. For a moment, everything feels suspended — his gaze on me, the soft hum of the night outside, the quiet rhythm of our breathing.
Then he reaches out, fingers brushing my chin, lifting it gently until I'm looking straight into his eyes.
The air between us changes. I can't think. I can't move.
And before I can even process what's happening, he leans in and closes the distance — a quiet, careful kiss that feels li
ke both a question and an answer.
The world falls silent.
.
.
.
TBC 💋🌹✨