Chapter 3: Handsome Stranger
1078 Words
I was done with class and just needed something sweet to cool off, so I made my way to the cafeteria for some snacks. My phone was in my hand, my eyes scanning an article that had just popped up on campus news.
“Billionaire Mr. Cooper’s only son, Dixon Cooper, spotted in the city after years out of the spotlight.”
Everyone in the city knew Mr. Cooper. He was one of the most powerful and respected billionaires in the country. But his son? A total mystery. No public socials, no interviews—just rumors and a few blurry photos.
I was still distracted when I bumped into someone. Hard.
“Oh my God—I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, stepping back.
The guy was tall, dressed in black, and definitely not part of the regular cafeteria crowd.
“It’s not every day you bump into handsome guys, huh?” he said, brushing dust off his sleeve.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
He smirked. “Relax. I was joking.”
“You?” I scoffed, tilting my head. “Handsome? You wish.”
He laughed softly, that confident kind of laugh that hinted he was used to getting reactions like mine. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
I was about to say something, but he just gave a faint smile like he’d decided to keep a secret. Then he turned and walked off, leaving me standing there... dumbfounded.
Who the heck was that?
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I met up with Roselee and Matthew at one of our usual spots on campus. Roselee was sitting cross-legged on the bench, happily licking a pink popsicle while scrolling through her phone.
“Did you guys see the news about Dixon Cooper?” she asked, flashing her screen toward us.
“Yeah, I sure did,” Matthew replied. “Apparently, he’s attending our university too.”
I raised my brows. “No way.”
“That’s what they’re saying,” he added. “But I don’t buy that ‘no social media’ thing. He’s too good-looking to be hiding in the shadows.”
Roselee nudged him. “Oh really? And how would you know that?”
Matthew shrugged and tried to play it cool. “Let’s just say... our dads were friends back in high school.”
Roselee's jaw dropped. “No. Freaking. Way! So that means you’ve actually seen him?”
Matthew conveniently ignored her question and changed the subject.
“Aurora, you want another popsicle?” he asked, already standing.
“I’m good,” I replied, waving him off.
“Nah, you’re getting one,” he grinned, walking off before I could stop him.
I leaned back against the bench, still thinking about the guy I bumped into. The way he looked at me. The way he said, "You have no idea who I am."
Maybe I didn’t. But something told me… I was about to.
On my way home, I rode my bicycle like I always did, the wind brushing past my face. Something about the quiet hum of the wheels beneath me felt comforting. Freeing.
But as I approached a corner, I spotted a small restaurant—one my mom used to take me to when I was little. Nostalgia tugged at my chest, and I parked my bike, deciding to stop for a while.
The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside. The place was quiet, bathed in warm hues of the setting sun. I picked a table beside the window and sat down, letting the fading golden light wash over me.
Then I saw him.
The guy from the cafeteria.
He sat at a corner booth alone, dressed in black from head to toe—t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Effortlessly striking. His posture screamed confidence, like he owned the room without even trying.
The sunset hit just right, and his blue eyes caught the light like glass. He was... otherworldly.
I didn't realize I was staring until he turned his head—and locked eyes with me.
Crap.
He stood, his movements smooth and unhurried, and walked toward my table. My heart skipped once. Maybe twice.
Without asking, he slid into the seat across from me.
“Hey, pretty,” he said, wearing that same confident smile. “Why were you staring at me?”
I blinked. Did he just call me pretty?
“Me? Staring at you?” I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “You wish.”
He chuckled. “You’ve got a thing for denying the obvious, huh?”
“You’ve got a thing for being full of yourself.”
His smile widened. “Still no idea who I am?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Honestly? I don’t care. But for someone who shows up everywhere I go, you’re giving serious stalker energy.”
He raised a brow, amused. “Do I look like a stalker to you?”
I opened my mouth to clap back, but before I could say a word, he waved to a waitress and leaned back casually.
“Two chocolate milkshakes,” he said, glancing at me without asking. “She looks like she needs the sugar.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might stay stuck. “I don’t remember ordering.”
“Didn’t ask you to,” he said smoothly. “I’m just being generous.”
“I didn’t ask for your generosity either.”
He smirked. “You’re feisty.”
“And you’re annoying.”
The waitress brought the milkshakes a few minutes later and placed them in front of us. He gave her a charming “thank you” and sipped his like he did this every day—showing up uninvited and taking over tables like they were his.
I stared at the drink, still debating whether to throw it in his face or drink it out of spite.
“You’ve got a lot of fire in you,” he said quietly. “But I wonder what you're hiding behind all that heat.”
I glanced up, startled by the sudden change in his tone. There was something se
rious behind his eyes—something deep.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
Who was this guy?
And why did he feel like someone I should remember… but didn’t?
- Writer
