MY GANGSTER CRUSH

Chapter Five: The Pull Between Us

The next morning, the sun spilled gold across the Westfield Academy campus, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. I knew he’d be there somewhere, watching, waiting, making everything I did feel like it was under a spotlight. My friends—well, the few I dared call friends—chattered excitedly, but I couldn’t focus on them. My mind kept drifting to Jace: the dark intensity in his eyes, the teasing smirk, the way he seemed to see through me in ways no one else ever had.

Walking to my first class, I hugged my books tighter. Every step felt weighted, heavy with anticipation. What if he appeared again? What if my heart betrayed me, as it always seemed to?

I turned a corner, and there he was, leaning casually against the lockers, arms crossed, that smirk firmly in place.

“Morning, princess,” he drawled, voice low, teasing, sending a shiver straight down my spine.

I cleared my throat, trying to act composed. “Good morning… Jace.” My hands tightened around my notebook.

He stepped just slightly closer, enough that the faint brush of his sleeve against mine made me flinch. “You’re early.”

“I… I like to be on time,” I muttered, cheeks burning.

“Sure,” he said, voice softening almost imperceptibly, as if he was amused by my nervousness. “Whatever you say.”

We walked together to class, not touching, not speaking much, but the tension was electric. I could feel his presence like a magnetic force, and I hated how easily it drew me in.

Inside the classroom, I sat near the window, pretending to focus on the lesson, but I could sense him watching me from the back. Every glance made my chest flutter; every subtle tilt of his head toward me made it impossible to concentrate.

By lunch, I was exhausted, not from classes, but from the anticipation, the mental battle of wanting to avoid him while simultaneously craving his attention. I stepped out into the courtyard, hoping to find a quiet corner, only to discover him already there, sitting on the edge of the fountain as though he owned it.

“You’re predictable,” he said the moment he saw me, smirk widening. “I should follow you around more often.”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush. “I’m not predictable.”

“Yet here you are,” he countered, leaning back, arms supporting him, eyes dark and unreadable.

I hesitated, then approached, notebook pressed to my chest. “Do you… do you always watch people like this?” I asked softly, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“Only the ones that catch my interest,” he replied, voice low. “And don’t think you’re not obvious. You glow, princess. You can’t hide it if you tried.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Glow? Obvious? My mind whirled, trying to process the compliment, the teasing, the undeniable pull between us.

For several long minutes, we simply sat in silence, the hum of the courtyard fading into background noise. I noticed small things I hadn’t before: the faint scent of smoke clinging to his jacket, the way his fingers tapped absentmindedly against the fountain’s edge, the way his eyes seemed to hold secrets he wasn’t willing to share.

Then, suddenly, his hand brushed mine. It was accidental, or at least he made it look accidental, but the jolt that ran through me was electric. My fingers twitched, my chest fluttered, and I could feel the heat crawling up my neck.

“Careful,” he murmured, smirk tugging at his lips. “You might start liking this.”

“I… I...” I stopped, realizing words would betray my racing thoughts.

He leaned slightly closer, just enough that our shoulders brushed, and I wanted to step back, but something inside me wouldn’t let me. The pull between us was intoxicating, dangerous, and thrilling all at once.

Over the next hour, I found myself watching him more than I should. Every interaction with others, every smile he gave, every careless laugh, it was magnetic. And then the whispers started.

“She’s hanging out with him again,” someone murmured as I passed a group of girls.

“You think she even knows what she’s getting into?” another asked, eyes wide with a mix of fear and envy.

I wanted to ignore them, but it was impossible. Jace’s presence was a force that made the gossip meaningless; all that mattered was him, the way he made me feel, the dangerous thrill of proximity.

After class, I went to the library to escape the whispers. I found a quiet corner, sinking into a chair with my notebook. I tried to focus on my notes, but the words blurred together. My thoughts kept returning to him, his smirk, his teasing voice, the warmth of his accidental touch.

“Studying hard, princess?”

I jumped, my heart hammering. He was leaning against the doorway, that dangerous smirk tugging at his lips. “You scared me,” I muttered, cheeks burning.

He stepped inside casually, perching on the edge of a nearby table. “Relax. I’m not here to eat your soul… yet.”

I couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he said softly, almost wistfully, and I noticed—briefly—a flicker of something softer in his eyes, something he immediately masked with a smirk.

We spent the next hour talking, well, him talking, me listening, about everything and nothing. He teased, he challenged, he observed, and every word, every glance, every subtle touch made my heart race and my thoughts scatter.

By the time the bell rang, I realized something terrifying: I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wanted to resist, to protect myself from whatever storm he brought, but a part of me wanted to dive headfirst into it.

Walking to the bus, I noticed the way he lingered, his eyes following me until I turned the corner. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and exhilarated all at once.

That night, I lay in bed, replaying every detail of the day. The accidental touches, the teasing words, the way he looked at me, my chest ached, my mind spun, and my heart refused to be still.

Why does he have this effect on me? I wondered. Why do I want to see him again, even though every instinct screams danger?

The answer was simple, terrifying, and impossible to ignore: he was magnetic, intoxicating, and utterly irresistible. And no matter how much I tried to resist, I knew I was already caught in the pull of Jace, the boy who was dangerous, teasing, and impossibly, completely mine in some way I didn’t yet understand.