Maria’s back hit the wall before she could process what was happening.
Daniel’s hand pressed beside her head, caging her in with that dangerous mix of calm and intensity he wore so well. His other hand rested lightly on her waist—not gripping, not pushing, but there, firm enough to make her hyperaware of every inch between them.
“Running from me again?” he murmured, his breath brushing her cheek.
“I wasn’t—” she began, but the words died when he leaned closer, his eyes holding hers like they could strip away every excuse she had.
“You were,” he said softly, tilting his head so his lips hovered dangerously close to her ear. “And you’re still thinking about last night.”
Her pulse stuttered. “Daniel, this isn’t—”
“Public?” His smirk deepened. “That didn’t stop you from looking at me like that in class.”
Maria’s fingers curled into her books, knuckles white. She hated that he was right.
For a second, neither of them moved. The hallway noise faded into nothing, and all she could hear was her heartbeat—and his steady breathing, far too calm for what he was doing to her.
A door slammed somewhere down the hall. Daniel finally leaned back, but only enough to let his gaze trail slowly over her face. “You can run again if you want,” he said, stepping away with infuriating casualness. “But I’ll always catch you.”
Maria stood there for a moment, breathing hard, her mind a storm. She wasn’t sure if she feared him… or feared how much she didn’t want him to stop. And deep down, she knew this game was only getting more dangerous—especially now that she couldn’t tell if she wanted to win… or lose.