CHAPTER FOUR
1089 Words
By the time Ava made it back to her dorm, her head was a mess.
Maya was already there, sprawled on her bed with headphones in, scrolling through her phone. She barely glanced up when Ava dropped her bag to the floor.
“You look like you’ve been through war,” Maya muttered.
Ava didn’t answer. She climbed into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head like it could block everything out Ethan’s smirk, his voice, the way his words had carved straight through her defenses.
She should’ve been reading for class, or sleeping, or literally anything else. Instead, she lay there in the dark, restless, heart thudding every time she thought about him leaning forward in the library.
You like pretending you don’t want me.
She squeezed her eyes shut. I don’t want him. I don’t.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Groaning, she reached for it
(Ethan's POV)
Ethan tossed his phone onto the couch beside him, leaning back with a lazy grin.
She’d answered.
Ava Montgomery, with all her sharp little glares and stubborn walls, had cracked. Just a little. Just enough.
Most girls either melted instantly or played hard-to-get for a week before giving in. Ava? She fought him at every turn, spitting fire, rolling her eyes, acting like she hated him. But he’d seen through it hell, he felt it when her lips parted against his that night on the rooftop. When she’d trembled under his touch in the library.
She wanted him.
And Ethan Cole loved nothing more than turning denial into obsession.
His phone buzzed again. A text from one of his usual flings: U up? with a string of suggestive emojis.
He didn’t even bother replying.
Because for the first time in forever, another girl wasn’t enough.
He grabbed his phone, pulling up Ava’s thread. She hadn’t opened his last message, but he knew she’d read it. She couldn’t not.
Ethan smirked, thumbs moving over the screen.
Ethan: Bet you’re staring at your ceiling, overthinking me right now.
He hesitated for a second before hitting send, which was unusual for him. He never hesitated.
Because the truth was, Ava wasn’t like the others.
The way she snapped back at him, the way she kept her guard up like her life depended on it.
It reminded him too much of himself. That old, familiar ache he buried under smirks and games stirred in his chest, unwelcome but undeniable.
He hated that she made him feel anything.
But he wanted her anyway.
His phone lit up. A reply.
Ava: You’re insane.
Ethan grinned, his chest tightening in victory. Not because she’d insulted him, but because she’d answered.
He typed back instantly:
Ethan: Insane about you? Yeah, maybe.
His heart kicked once, hard, when the screen showed: Ava is typing…
Then it vanished.
Then appeared again.
Then vanished.
He chuckled to himself. She was flustered. Perfect.
Ethan leaned back, running a hand through his hair. This was more fun than he’d had in years. But underneath the thrill was something heavier, something he refused to name.
Because for the first time, he didn’t just want to win the game.
He wanted her.
Ethan stretched across his couch, phone glowing in his hand, Ava’s name at the top of the screen like a dare.
Ava: You’re seriously the most arrogant person I’ve ever met.
He smirked. God, she made this too easy.
Ethan: Arrogant? No. Confident? Definitely.
He stared at the screen, waiting. The seconds stretched. He imagined her in her dorm hair messy, biting her lip, glaring at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.
Finally, the reply came.
Ava: You don’t even like me. You just… chase anything that runs away from you.
His jaw tightened. That one stung. Because she wasn’t entirely wrong.
But this wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.
He typed slowly this time.
Ethan: If that were true, you’d already be out of my head.
He hit send before he could overthink it. That was more honest than he liked to be.
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
He waited, pulse tapping hard in his throat.
Ava: Don’t try to make this sound deep. You don’t do feelings, Ethan. Everyone knows that.
A laugh slipped out, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Ethan: Maybe everyone doesn’t know everything.
No reply.
He tossed his phone aside, running a hand through his hair. Normally, he hated chasing. Normally, if someone resisted him, he’d cut his losses and find someone easier. But Ava?
Ava made him restless.
Her refusal wasn’t rejection it was temptation.
His phone buzzed again.
Ava: I don’t want to play whatever game you think this is.
He snatched the phone up instantly.
Ethan: Who said I’m playing?
This time, she didn’t answer right away. Minutes dragged. He found himself pacing his apartment, restless energy twisting in his chest.
When his phone finally lit up again, his heart kicked hard.
Ava: You make everything into a game. The smirks, the flirting, the teasing. It’s exhausting.
He froze, staring at the words.
Exhausting.
The word cut deeper than he expected. Nobody ever told him that. Nobody ever called him out like that.
He sank back onto the couch, thumb hovering over the keyboard.
For once, he didn’t want to send some slick, sarcastic comeback. For once, he wanted to tell her the truth.
But truth wasn’t his language.
So instead, he typed:
Ethan: You’re different. That’s why it’s not a game anymore.
He swore under his breath the second he sent it. Too much. Too honest. He could practically feel his armor slipping.
And then.....
Ava: …goodnight, Ethan.
Three little words. Polite. Final.
Except it wasn’t final. Because he knew..... he knew she’d gone to bed with his words twisting in her head.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding harder than it should. For the first time in years, Ethan Cole wasn’t sure who was really in control.
Across campus, Ava lay in her dorm, her phone still warm in her hand. She read his last message again and again.
You’re different. That’s why it’s not a game anymore.
She wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to laugh it off. She wanted to throw her phone across the room and scream into her pillow.
But instead, she just lay there, staring at the words until her chest ached.
Because some dangerous, treacherous part of her almost believed him.
- Writer
