Beneath the Flames

Three

The Hall pulsed with energy. Music thundered from rented speakers, students danced under strings of fairy lights, champagne bottles popped, and laughter carried across the night. Graduation wasn’t just the end of exams—it was freedom.

But I couldn’t shake the weight pressing against my ribs.

I should’ve felt light, giddy even, but instead I stood off to the side, leaning against a column, sipping champagne that had long since gone flat. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the fact that after tonight, I had no idea where life would take me. Or maybe—just maybe—it was because I kept catching myself scanning the crowd for him.

Of course, fate being the cruel trickster it was, Adrian Cole appeared just when I’d convinced myself I didn’t care.

He looked unfairly good. His black suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, tie undone, shirt collar open like he’d walked straight out of a glossy magazine spread. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and the grin tugging at his mouth told me he knew exactly how magnetic he was.

And damn him for it.

He spotted me instantly, his eyes catching like they always did, as if some invisible thread tied us together whether I liked it or not.

“Well, well,” he drawled, strolling up. “Bennett, lurking on the sidelines? Didn’t think you were the wallflower type.”

“Go away, Cole,” I muttered, taking another sip of champagne.

“Harsh. It’s our last night as students, and that’s how you greet me?” His smirk deepened. “I thought you’d at least miss me a little.”

I turned to him fully, narrowing my eyes. “Miss you? I plan on erasing every memory of you the second I toss this cap in the air.”

“Tragic,” he said lightly, though his gaze lingered too long, too sharp.

Silence stretched between us, charged and awkward. The music thumped in the background, but it felt distant.

Adrian’s eyes dropped to my glass. “You hate champagne.”

My brow furrowed. “How would you know that?”

He shrugged. “Noticed. You always make a face after the first sip.”

Heat rose in my cheeks before I could stop it. He noticed? Since when did Adrian Cole notice anything about me that wasn’t ammunition for an insult?

“Congratulations, Bennett,” he added quietly, and for once, his voice held no mockery. “You fought harder than anyone.”

Something cracked in my chest.

“Don’t do that,” I whispered.

“Do what?”

“Act like you care.”

He tilted his head. “What if I do?”

The words hit like a sucker punch.

I laughed, bitter and shaky. “You’ve spent four years making my life hell, and now, at the finish line, you want to play nice?”

He stepped closer. Too close. His cologne wrapped around me, subtle and warm.

“Maybe it was the only way to keep your attention,” he said, voice low.

My heart stuttered. “That’s—”

“Absurd? Pathetic? True?” His eyes locked on mine, burning with something I didn’t want to name.

We were inches apart now. My back pressed against the column, his hand braced near my shoulder. Every rational part of me screamed to push him away, to put space between us, to remember all the reasons I couldn’t stand him.

But my body betrayed me.

My pulse hammered. My breath hitched. My gaze flicked, traitorous, to his mouth.

And in that split second, I wanted it. I wanted him.

Adrian leaned in, the world narrowing to the heat of his breath, the sharp angle of his jaw, the dangerous curve of his smile.

And then—

I shoved him back. Hard.

“Don’t,” I snapped, voice shaking. “Whatever this is—it ends tonight.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by something rawer, something that twisted painfully in my chest.

“You sure about that?” he asked softly.

I forced steel into my spine. “Absolutely.”

And before he could say another word, I turned and walked away, my steps unsteady but determined.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

Because if I had, I would’ve seen him still standing there, watching me like I’d just stolen the last word from him—and maybe I had.

That night, I swore I’d never see Adrian Cole again.

Of course, fate had other plans.