07 Chemistry

Natalie

“I’d ask you to dance, stranger,” Adrian murmured, his lips curving into a smirk that walked the fine line between charm and danger, “but I’m guessing that’s not your thing.”

I stiffened.

Not because of the question—but because of what came before it.

Stranger.

I hadn’t told him my name.

He saw the flicker in my eyes and smiled like he already knew what I was thinking.

“Natalie,” I said, more breath than voice.

His smile deepened, pleased.

Lisa chimed in with her name, light and casual, but Adrian only gave her a polite nod before his focus returned to me—sharp and unwavering. Like she was part of the background, a flicker on the edge of a frame he had no interest in.

“Do you dance, Natalie?” he asked, his voice low and coaxing. Like the question itself was a dare.

I almost said no.

I should’ve said no.

But then Lisa leaned in under the table, nudging my thigh with her knee.

“Oh, come on, Nat,” she whispered, teasing. “We came here to have fun. And what’s more fun than dancing with a ridiculously hot mystery man who clearly has you locked in his sights?”

Heat rose up the back of my neck. My skin felt flushed.

She wasn’t wrong.

Without another word, I stood.

Adrian’s eyes darkened—not with disappointment, but something else. Like he hadn’t expected me to say yes… but was thrilled that I did.

He rose with me, then reached out.

His hand wrapped around mine—firm, steady, impossibly gentle. It was a simple touch, but something about it made my pulse stutter.

Without a word, he led me away from the booth.

Past the crowd.

Past the lingering stares.

Past Arya’s territory.

Straight to a section of the dance floor that seemed to part for him. Reserved. Untouched.

And the moment Adrian pulled me into his space—his world—everything else disappeared.

The music. The lights. The people.

All I could feel was him.

His hands were firm but controlled, the heat of his touch bleeding through the thin fabric of my dress like fire under silk.

My breath caught. My pulse stuttered, completely under his command.

The air between us thickened—charged with something primal, unspoken, magnetic.

He was doing something to me.

Something I couldn’t name.

Something that bypassed logic and went straight to the nerves under my skin.

My body responded before my mind could protest—leaning in, pressing closer, aching in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

I tried to push back the flood of sensation, to reel myself in. But it was like trying to pull away from gravity.

His scent wrapped around me—rich, dark, expensive. A drug in the air.

And the way his hands moved, how he guided my hips to match his rhythm—it made thinking nearly impossible. Each movement was deliberate, each brush of contact a spark.

God help me if we were alone.

I wasn’t sure I’d say no.

I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.

Then he leaned in. Close enough that I felt his breath against my ear, warm and electric.

“You’re holding back,” he murmured, that velvet-smooth voice laced with quiet amusement.

My breath hitched again.

Was I?

Or was I already too far gone?

The music faded into the beat of my own heart. Everything around us—flashing lights, the pulse of the crowd, the bass in the floor—melted into nothing.

There was only him.

And then—he pulled away.

Abrupt. Clean.

The loss of his touch hit like a plunge into cold water. The trance shattered. I was left breathless, unsteady, like someone had yanked the ground out from under me.

I blinked, my body still humming from the contact, my mind scrambling to catch up.

He looked at me with a glint in his eyes—knowing, unreadable.

And I had no idea what to say.

Adrian regarded me with a knowing smile—warm, gentle, yet impossible to read.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you and your friend here tonight,” he said, voice smooth and effortless. “I’ve got some important business to attend to.”

His eyes lingered on mine, the heat still simmering beneath the surface.

“Hope you won’t miss me too much.”

Something twisted in my chest. The sudden space between us felt sharp, like the air had changed.

Miss him?

I didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t even know what this was.

But I nodded anyway, doing my best to cool the fire he’d just set inside me.

His gaze held mine for a second longer—long enough to make my skin prickle, long enough to make me wonder if he was fighting the same pull I was.

And then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

The moment he was gone, I exhaled like I’d just surfaced from underwater. My legs wobbled beneath me. My pulse hadn’t slowed.

I barely made it back to the booth before Lisa grabbed my arm, her eyes wide with uncontained awe.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, equal parts disbelief and delight.

I stared at her, stunned. “I don’t know.”

“Girl,” she breathed. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

I managed a shaky laugh, but she leaned in before I could respond, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.

“If I hadn’t been sitting right there, you two would’ve definitely gone all the way.”

She waggled her brows, loving every second of my mortified expression.

“Where do you even know him from?”

I blinked, still trying to process it myself. I could still feel the ghost of his touch, the pressure of his hand at my waist, the echo of his voice in my ear.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said, shaking my head. “I bumped into him this afternoon in the woods,”

Lisa blinked. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. It was… nothing. Just a moment.” I said not wanting to speak about the wolf.

But even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true.

It hadn’t been nothing. Not for me.

And if the way Adrian had looked at me—held me—was anything to go by, it hadn’t been nothing for him either.

A strange anticipation curled low in my stomach.

Would I see him again?

Suddenly, the idea of living on campus didn’t seem so terrible.

But right alongside the excitement was something else. Something colder.

Fear.

Because Adrian—whatever he was—hadn’t made any promises. He was mystery wrapped in power, untouchable and unreadable. Men like that didn’t walk into your life without a cost.

Was I in over my head?

The question whispered through me, sharp and quiet.

And yet... maybe I didn’t mind.