Ethan Clarke, ever the instigator, slid into the seat next to her with a grin that made Scarlett's stomach twist. "So," he whispered loudly enough for her to hear, "you and Jackson… that kiss last night? Didn't think you had it in you." His words were teasing, sharp, designed to provoke.
Scarlett's face burned. "Shut up," she muttered, glaring, wishing he had disappear.
Jackson's gaze found hers across the table, green eyes dark with intensity. The tiniest twitch of his lips betrayed jealousy—or was it something deeper? Scarlett felt heat pooling in her stomach, warmth she had not expected, and her pulse spiked. Every nerve in her body screamed for him, but her mind screamed for restraint.
After lunch, the tension followed her to the library. It was quieter here, rows of books shielding them from prying eyes. Scarlett thought she could finally catch her breath, but then Jackson appeared, leaning casually against the shelf she was hiding behind.
"Hey," he murmured, voice low, dangerous. His green eyes locked onto her. "That kiss… I cannot stop thinking about it."
Scarlett swallowed hard. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. "Jackson… I—"
He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking, and Scarlett's breath caught. Heat rolled through her body, a deep, consuming desire she had not dared to name. Her hands trembled at her sides. The scent of him, faint cologne mixed with the library's old paper, wrapped around her like a lure.
"you are… different," Jackson whispered, his voice husky. "I cannot stop noticing you, Scarlett. Every look, every laugh… It is driving me unsound."
Scarlett's chest tightened. "Jackson…" Her voice was barely audible, trembling with longing and fear. Her body wanted to move, to close the distance, to feel the fire he sparked—but her mind screamed caution.
His hand brushed hers, a "casual" touch that made her stomach flip. She froze, feeling the electricity shoot from his fingers to her own. Her pulse thundered as she realized that every moment with him was now loaded with temptation.
Jackson leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief and desire. "Do you feel it too?" His breath brushed her cheek. "That… tension?"
Scarlett's knees nearly buckled. "I… I do not know," she admitted, though the heat pooling in her core betrayed her words. Her heart thudded in her chest, a mixture of fear, longing, and reckless anticipation.
Suddenly, the library door creaked. Both jumped apart, the electricity still thick in the air. Scarlett's cheeks burned as her chest heaved, every nerve on fire. Jackson's gaze lingered on her, dark and magnetic, and Scarlett knew—without a doubt—that he felt the same dangerous pull.
Ethan's laughter echoed from the hallway, reminding them that they were not alone. Scarlett grabbed her notebook, pretending to read, but she could not focus. Jackson leaned closer again under the guise of moving a chair, his thigh brushing her lightly. The contact sent shivers up her spine, and she bit her lip, trying to hide the reaction.
"Scarlett," he whispered, voice rough now, lower than before, "I want more than a kiss. I should not… but I cannot stop thinking about you."
Her pulse skyrocketed. Her body ached for him in ways she had fought to ignore. She knew she should not, she could not, but the desire was overwhelming, undeniable.
The bell rang, shattering the moment, pulling them back into reality. Students poured into the library, oblivious to the tension hanging between them. Scarlett gathered her things, heart hammering, cheeks still burning. Jackson's green eyes followed her every move, dark with intensity, promise, and hunger.
As she walked to her next class, Scarlett felt an ache she could not explain—longing, fear, and anticipation wrapped together in a coil of tension. She glanced back once, seeing Jackson still watching, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Her mind raced: This is dangerous. Reckless. But… I cannot stop wanting him.
And deep down, a voice whispered that everything between them was about to explode, and she would never be able to resist him again.