Before I can say more, he suddenly slams the brakes.
I jerk forward, gasping, but before I can hit the dashboard, his arm instinctively shoots out—stopping me.
"I'm sorry." he says quickly, his voice softer than before.
I push his hand away, glaring at him.
"And you say you want nothing to do with me, huh? But I do." he murmurs, eyes locked onto mine. "I want to spend every day with you. I want to look into these beautiful eyes every morning. I want to see love in them again. I want—"
"Enough." My voice trembles, but I hold my ground. "I'm only here because of Rain. I didn't want to embarrass her by refusing after everything she did for me. But don't get the wrong idea—I'm not here for you. So stop daydreaming."
He stays silent for a moment before whispering, "I love you, Am—"
"Stop."
He blinks at me in surprise, but I push forward, my emotions boiling over.
"Love? Do you even know what love is?" My voice rises. "Where was your so-called love three years ago, huh? Now that we've accidentally met, you suddenly remember it again? I don't want to be with you, Nicolas. I don't want to play this stupid game of yours. And do you know why?"
I swallow hard.
"Because I don't trust you. I just can't. Stay out of my life—just like you have for the past three years."
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
Not again.
Without another word, I throw the door open and step out.
I don't look at him.
I don't want to.
I can't go through that pain again.
I arrived at the dorm late. Too late.
After storming out of Nicolas' car, I had wandered the streets for hours before finally settling in the library. Sitting alone in the silence, trying to clear my head.
But it didn't work.
Rain isn't going to be here tonight; she will be with Aiden. Now, back in my room, I throw on my softest pajamas and collapse onto my bed, sighing as the events of the day replay in my mind.
"You did good, Amelia."
"You drew the line. He doesn't deserve a second chance. He doesn't even deserve your friendship, let alone your love."
"So why do I still feel hollow? Why does it feel like I did something wrong? Like my heart opposed what I said?"
I shake the thought away and drift off to sleep, but my rest is fitful.
When I wake up, I check my phone— 8:00 AM.
My eyes widen.
Shit.
I jump out of bed, rushing to the bathroom, scrambling to brush my teeth and throw on some decent clothes.
"How could I wake up so late?!"
Grabbing my bag and books, I dash out of the dorm. But the second I step outside, I freeze.
A familiar red Bugatti is parked at the curb.
And him leaning casually against the car as if he has all the time in the world.
I ignore him, pretending I don't see him as I stride past.
But of course, he follows.
"I can drop you off." he offers smoothly.
I don't even look at him. "Mind your own business."
Before I can take another step, he grabs my arm.
I whirl around, glaring.
"You're late, right?" His voice is soft—too soft.
I know I'm damn late. But getting into his car is the last thing I want to do.
And yet… I also can't afford to be late.
As if reading my hesitation, he smirks. "If you don't let me drop you off, I'll keep holding you here."
He's insane.
No—he's always been insane.
"Let go of me, Nicolas. I don't have time for this."
"I know." His grip doesn't loosen. "So let me drop you off."
I grit my teeth, knowing he won't budge.
"Fine. But only because I know you're a sick bastard who won't let me go—even if I got on my knees and begged you to."
His smirk deepens as he suddenly pulls me closer.
And then, in a low, hushed tone, he murmurs:
"That you will be… but under different circumstances."