Imani’s POV
By the third night of tutoring, my nerves were a mess.
Not because Nicolas was difficult, he was always difficult, but because something had shifted. Something subtle. Something I didn’t trust.
Ever since I called him childish, he had been quieter. More focused. Less sarcastic. It should’ve made things easier.
Instead, it made me… aware. Aware of his eyes lingering too long. Aware of his height when he leaned over my table. Aware of the way he smelled when he walked past me, crisp laundry, clean skin, faint cologne.
I hated myself for noticing. I hated him more for making me notice.
But ignoring Nicolas was like ignoring gravity, impossible, stupid, and guaranteed to cause damage.
At 10:02 PM, three hard knocks sounded at my door.
I opened it and found him standing ther
