Ava didn't sleep much that night.
Not because of anxiety.
Not because of fear.
But because every time she closed her eyes, she felt him again.
The way Nicholas kissed her like there was nowhere else he needed to be.
The way his hand had rested at her waist, steady and warm, like he was grounding himself just as much as her.
The way he had looked at her afterward—not victorious, not smug—but soft.
Like she mattered.
She stared at the ceiling long after midnight, replaying it all, her chest tight with feelings she wasn't ready to name.
By morning, she decided something.
She wasn't going to overthink this.
She was tired of running from moments just because they felt too real.
When she walked into campus the next day, she felt different.
Still nervous.
Still cautious.
But not hiding.
She spotted Nicholas outside the café before he saw her—leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, scrolling through his phone.
He looked… normal.
Not campus royalty.
Not untouchable.
Just a guy waiting.
And when his eyes lifted and found her—
His entire expression changed.
Like the world narrowed.
Ava's heart stumbled.
He pushed off the wall immediately. "Hey."
"Hey."
An awkward half-second passed.
Then he smiled—small, genuine, almost shy.
"I was hoping you'd show up."
She raised an eyebrow. "What if I hadn't?"
"I would've waited," he said simply.
That shouldn't have meant anything.
But it did.
They walked together without discussing where they were going, their steps naturally syncing. The campus buzzed around them, but Ava felt strangely insulated, like they were inside their own quiet pocket.
Nicholas stopped near the quad.
"Ava," he said, more serious now, "can we talk?"
Her chest tightened. "Okay."
He took a breath—not nervous, but thoughtful.
"I don't want to assume anything about last night," he said. "I don't want to rush you. And I definitely don't want to blur lines and pretend they don't exist."
She watched him carefully.
"So," he continued, eyes steady on hers, "I'm going to ask you something. And you can say no."
Her pulse quickened. "Alright."
He stepped a little closer—not touching, just close enough that she felt him.
"Would you let me take you out?" he asked. "Not as Wolfe. Not as some campus thing. Just… me. And you."
Her breath caught.
A date.
A real one.
Not a party.
Not chaos.
Not heat wrapped in confusion.
Just intention.
She searched his face for games.
Found none.
"What does 'take me out' mean?" she asked softly.
"It means dinner," he said. "It means picking you up. It means asking how your day went and actually listening. It means not disappearing. It means being clear."
Her throat tightened.
"And if it gets complicated?" she asked.
"It will," he said honestly. "But I won't run."
Silence stretched.
Then Ava smiled—small, nervous, real.
"Okay," she said. "Yes."
Nicholas exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for days.
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
He smiled fully this time—unguarded, bright.
"Friday?" he asked. "I know a place off campus. Quiet. No drama."
She nodded. "Friday works."
They stood there for a moment, neither quite ready to leave.
Nicholas reached for her hand—slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn't.
His fingers laced with hers naturally, like they'd done it before.
Ava looked down at their hands, then back up at him.
"This means we're… dating?" she asked.
"If you want it to," he said. "No labels if you're not ready. No pressure."
She squeezed his hand once.
"I want it."
Something softened in his eyes.
"Good," he said quietly. "Because I already chose you."
Her heart skipped.
They didn't kiss.
Not because they didn't want to—but because the moment felt too important to rush.
Instead, Nicholas walked her to class, their hands still linked, ignoring the looks, the whispers, the curiosity.
For once, Ava didn't care.
Later that evening, Ava lay on her bed staring at her phone.
A new message lit up the screen.
Nicholas:
Did you get back to your room okay?
She smiled.
Ava:
Yes.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Nicholas:
Good. I like knowing you're safe.
Her chest warmed.
She typed, paused, erased, then typed again.
Ava:
I'm glad it's you.
The dots stopped.
Then reappeared.
Nicholas:
Me too.
She set the phone down, heart racing—not with fear, but with something fragile and hopeful.
She didn't know about the dare.
Didn't know about the thing buried in Nicholas's past that would eventually come back sharp and cruel.
Right now, all she knew was this:
He chose her.
He showed up.
And for the first time in a long time—
Ava Morgan let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be real.