His grip on my wrist was firm, but not painful—just enough to make me aware of every nerve in my body. He looked annoyed, no doubt irritated that I had disturbed his nap, but then… his expression softened. He stared at me like he was trying to memorize every inch of my face.
"Amelia?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, sending shivers down my spine.
Or maybe it wasn't just his voice. Maybe it was the fact that the guy I'd just met somehow knew my name. And whispered it like it was a secret meant only for me.
I barely had time to react before Jake's voice cut through the tension. "I see that you two met each other."
The grip on my wrist vanished instantly. I blinked, surprised, and looked up. Jake stood in the foyer, hands casually tucked in his pockets, a smirk playing on his lips. I quickly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying not to look like a complete fool.
The guy turned his attention to Jake. "Damien, Amelia"
"Amelia, Damien" Jake corrected, and my stomach did a small flip.
So this was Damien Wolfe. THE Damien Wolfe. The best friend I had somehow never met before, despite Mom practically squealing about him every time she mentioned Jake's friends.
Mom had made it sound like he was some kind of legend—scholarship, top of his class, driven, disciplined, football star. A guy who had achieved everything on his own while remaining untouchably cool. She had always been thrilled that Jake had someone like Damien in his life. Someone who would supposedly influence him for the better.
And yet, now that I was looking at him in person, I realized: Mom hadn't prepared me for how intimidating he could be.
"Finally," Damien said, sounding almost annoyed. "Been dying to meet THE Amelia."
I raised a brow, wondering what ridiculous things Jake had told him. Me? Die-hard fans of Damien? Please. I was just… spoiled, overprotected, and annoyingly oblivious to my own effect on people.
Jake laughed, shaking his head. "Chill. We'll have time to catch up later," he said, giving Damien a friendly nudge. Then he turned to me. "Go rest a little after your trip, Lia. We'll hang out tonight. There's this bar I want to show you."
I rolled my eyes but smiled softly. He always had that effect on me—making me feel both safe and spoiled at the same time. "Fine," I said, retreating toward my room.
---
The bathroom mirror did not lie. Four hours in a cab had left me looking pale, hair a tangled mess, and lips dry. I cursed myself quietly, wondering if my flushed cheeks and jittery heartbeat were just from exhaustion—or… from Damien.
Damien's Effect. Yeah, that sounded about right. A new meme could be born from this.
Laughing at my own ridiculous thoughts, I sank into a warm aromatherapy bath, letting the tension in my muscles melt away.
---
By 7 PM, I emerged from my room, dressed in a red long-sleeve crop top, black jeans, and chunky heels. My hair fell naturally over my shoulders, and I took a deep breath of my Carolina Herrera perfume. Confidence? Maybe. Nervous energy? Definitely.
When I stepped into the living room, Vaughn was there. His back was to me as he scanned the bookshelves, tall and impossibly calm.
"Hey," I called softly, making him turn.
His amber eyes met mine, and I felt heat crawl up my neck. I gave him a tentative smile before casually heading to the kitchen, pretending I wasn't acutely aware of his gaze.
I opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of mineral water, and leaned against it, facing anything but him. My heart refused to behave, pounding erratically in my chest.
"Can you not…" I paused, awkwardly swallowing. "…stare at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like… like what you're doing now," I muttered, turning away and taking a long gulp of water.
"Can't I stare at something pretty?" His voice was casual, teasing—but there was an edge that made my pulse skip.
I choked back a laugh, nearly spitting the water onto the counter. Damn him. He looked way too good to be standing there, smirking at me like I was some fascinating puzzle he couldn't wait to solve.
Jake strolled over, chuckling at the scene. "I'm sure he won't get into trouble. That's a compliment, Lia."
"What compliment?" I asked, confused, still flustered.
Jake gave me a smug look, snatching the car keys from Damien, tossing them in his own hand. "Let's go."
---
At the bar, I twirled a straw absentmindedly in my cocktail, trying to calm my nerves. The drink was sweet, strong, and exactly what I needed. But no matter how much I tried to focus, my attention kept drifting.
Not to Jake. Not even to the lively crowd around us.
To Damien.
He was quiet, watching me with those amber eyes, studying me in a way that made my stomach twist. Twice today, he had made me blush without even trying. And now, I could feel the stares of others—the envious glances from girls, the curiosity from guys—all fixated on our little trio.
"Why is everyone looking at us?" I whispered to Jake.
"They don't usually stare that much," Jake said, taking a tequila shot. "It's you, Lia."
"What? Me?" I blinked. "Why?"
Jake smirked. "A lot of guys notice you, even back in high school."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, before you scared them off."
Jake laughed proudly. "Can't help it," he said, clearly pleased with himself.
The bar music shifted, a seductive beat pulling attention toward the dance floor. A girl with black hair in a halter top sidled up to Jake, brushing her hand across his shoulder. "Wanna dance?" she purred.
Jake smirked, not missing a beat. "Why not?" he said, and they disappeared into the crowd.
That left me… alone.
Alone with Damien.
And his gaze.
The kind of gaze that made me feel exposed, studied, and dangerously alive all at once. I spun my straw in my drink, pretending to focus on it, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck and into
my chest.
It wasn't fair.
But then again… when had anything about Damien Wolfe ever been fair?