Did You Just Call Me Fat. The Captain's Secret Obession

That Is For Me To Decide

Nova.s Pov

"I'm sorry," Ashton said.

His voice dropping into a low, heavy rumble that vibrated right through the quiet room, completely stripping away his icy public mask. The usual cold, untouchable posture he wore on the rugby field was gone, replaced by a raw intensity that made his broad frame look even more imposing in the dark.

"I'm sorry for staring, Nova," he whispered, his chest rising and falling heavily as he took a half-step closer. "I just... I couldn't stop looking at you. I didn't mean to scare you, I swear."

I caught my breath, my hands remaining flat against my chest as I forced my sassy shields back up. He was crowding my space, his heavy shoulders blocking out the dim moonlight filtering through the glass doors.

"Oh, you couldn't stop looking at me?" I sneered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Is that supposed to be a compliment, King? Because sneaking up behind someone in an empty house at two in the morning makes you look less like a captain and more like a stalker."

Instead of pulling back or getting defensive, a slow, low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. It was a rich, dark sound that completely caught me off guard.

I stopped breathing, glaring up at him with pure disbelief. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you think my dignity being dragged through the mud tonight is some kind of hilarious joke?"

Ashton looked down at me, his dark eyes softening into an expression that made my stomach do a dangerous, violent flip. "No," he murmured, his voice incredibly quiet, laced with a warmth I had never heard from him before. "It’s just... you’re really cute when you’re angry, Nova."

My face instantly caught fire, a wave of intense heat rushing from my neck straight to my forehead. Cute? The word felt dangerous coming from a guy like him. I could feel the blush burning dark and heavy on my cheeks, and I absolutely hated how fast my heart started hammering against my ribs. I wanted to bite back with a vicious retort, but my tongue felt heavy.

"Shut up," I muttered, my voice cracking slightly as I violently wrenched my head away to hide the flush. "I am completely done here. I’m leaving."

I tried to brush past his shoulder to march straight toward the glass doors, but Ashton anticipated the move. He stepped directly into my path, his massive 6'3" frame blocking the exit like a brick wall. He didn't look weak; he looked entirely in control, his posture steady and unyielding.

"Wait, Nova. Just look at what you're wearing," he said, his eyes dropping to my thin, oversized t-shirt. The night air filtering through the open doors was freezing, and a sudden shiver ran through my shoulders.

Before I could tell him to get out of my way, Ashton reached down to the hem of his tight black t-shirt. In one fluid, effortless motion, he pulled the shirt clean off his body, tossing his dark hair out of his eyes.

My breath completely jammed in my throat. In the dim moonlight, his bare torso was a devastating display of solid muscle, sculpted abdominal lines, and broad shoulders built from years of brutal rugby training. He looked every bit the powerful athlete he was.

"Take it," Ashton said, holding the soft black fabric out to me, his chest heaving slightly. "You're shivering. Wear it back to the hostel."

I stared at the shirt, then forced my eyes up to his bare chest, trying to maintain my scowl. "Are you insane? No. What the hell? I am absolutely not going to be wearing your shirt, King. I’d rather freeze to death in the quad than walk around smelling like a jerk. i said."

But inside my head, a completely different, unhinged war was screaming. Oh god, please let him insist. Do not let him put that shirt back on. There is absolutely no way in hell I am going to pass off the golden offer of burying myself in his clean cedarwood scent.

And Ashton didn't back down as he stepped closer, his bare chest nearly brushing my shoulder as he pressed the shirt firmly into my hands, his fingers lingering against mine. His touch was warm, commanding, and left no room for argument. "Please, Nova. Just wear it. It’s freezing outside, and the mosquitoes are out. Just take the shirt."

I feigned a long, deeply irritated sigh, rolling my eyes dramatically as I gripped the fabric, secretly thrilled by the weight of it. "Well... since you are being so incredibly insisting, I guess I'll put it on. Just so you'll shut up and let me leave."

I lifted the shirt and slide it over my head and the material was massive on me, completely swallowing my frame and hanging down past my thighs like a dress. The second my face cleared the collar, the scent hit me—clean cedarwood, expensive masculine soap, and the raw, addictive heat of his skin. Without even realizing what I was doing, I unconsciously took a deep, heavy sniff of the collar, closing my eyes for a fraction of a second to memorize it.

When I opened my eyes, I realized Ashton was staring at me. Or rather, he was trying not to.

The untouchable rugby captain was suddenly looking everywhere but my face, his gaze flicking to the ceiling, then to the dark bar counter. In the faint moonlight, I could clearly see that his cheeks were flushed with a distinct, dark shade of pink.

I let out a dry, mocking snort, a bitter, defensive shield clicking back into place. Probably disgusted, I thought, assuming he was looking at how massive his shirt looks on my curves and feeling completely grossed out that the scholarship girl was wearing his clothes.

"Okay," I said coldly, tucking my hands into the oversized sleeves. "I think I am officially done here. I don't want to be stuck another single minute with you. And I guess that person you were waiting for should have left by now anyway, so go find them and dragged my hand back, pulling my fingers out of his grip with a firm, unyielding tug. I tucked my hand safely back into the long sleeve of his oversized black shirt.

I lifted my chin, locking him with a cool, unreadable gaze that carried all of my signature defiance.

"Well," I whispered, my voice steady and dripping with a quiet, burning tension. "That is entirely for me to decide, Ashton."