Chapter 3
923 Words
Chapter 3: The Draw
The days that followed felt like a slow, steady burn.
Every time Sly looked at her, it was like a dare. A challenge. A silent game she didn’t want to play—but somehow, he was pulling her in deeper, whether she liked it or not. There was no escaping him, no hiding from that lazy smirk, that reckless confidence that filled every room he entered.
Feliz hated it. Hated how her body reacted to him in ways she refused to acknowledge. Every stolen glance, every casual brush of his fingers against hers, seemed to leave a mark she couldn’t rub off.
But she wasn’t about to let him win.
She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her unravel.
Even if the game had already started.
And even if deep down... she wasn’t sure she wanted it to stop.
---
It was late afternoon when Sly walked into the break room.
Feliz was sitting at the counter, nursing an iced coffee that had long since gone watery. She kept her gaze glued to her phone, pretending not to notice him—but the shift in the air was immediate, unmistakable. His presence was a gravitational pull, tugging at her focus no matter how hard she resisted.
She could hear his steps slow as he spotted her. Then, deliberate and unhurried, he crossed the room, coming to a stop right beside her.
Close. Too close.
Sly [leaning casually against the counter, voice low and teasing]
“Still pretending I’m not here?”
She didn’t look up, clenching her jaw as she scrolled absently through a screen she wasn’t even reading. Her pulse thudded painfully at the base of her throat.
Feliz [voice cool, dry]
“You know, Sly, there’s a thing called personal space. Ever heard of it?”
Sly chuckled, a deep, rich sound that rumbled through her bones.
Without missing a beat, he leaned in closer, until their shoulders brushed—just a whisper of contact, but enough to set her skin alight.
Sly [grinning]
“Personal space is overrated, don’t you think?”
Feliz bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood.
She needed to shut this down. Fast.
Feliz [finally looking up at him, eyes sharp as blades]
“Is this your idea of fun? Ruining everyone’s peace?”
Sly’s gaze met hers, steady and unrelenting. There was no mistaking the challenge in his eyes—or the heat simmering just beneath it.
Sly [voice low, almost intimate]
“Who said anything about ruining peace?
Maybe I’m just here to wake you up, Feliz.”
His words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged.
And for a moment—just a second—Feliz forgot to breathe.
Because it wasn’t just a game anymore.
There was something else lurking under Sly’s teasing—something deeper, darker, infinitely more dangerous.
He stepped even closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough that all she would have to do was lean in—
No.
No, no, no.
Feliz [voice tight, almost shaking]
“You don’t know anything about me, Sly.”
But even as she said it, it felt like a lie.
Sly [his mouth curving into a slow, wicked smile]
“Oh, I think I know more than you’d like me to.”
He dipped his head low, and before she could move, she felt the softest graze of his lips against the shell of her ear.
The touch was light—barely there—but it set off a chain reaction in her body that left her trembling.
Every nerve lit up. Every instinct screamed to push him away.
And yet she froze, caught in the gravity of him, helpless against the heat that threatened to consume her whole.
Sly’s breath was warm against her skin as he whispered,
“Tell me you don’t feel it.”
She jerked back so fast her chair scraped against the floor.
Feliz [voice cracking despite her best efforts]
“I’m not interested in... whatever this is.”
Sly straightened, giving her a little space—but not enough to let her breathe easy. His smirk softened into something almost gentle, almost dangerous.
Sly [tilting his head, voice soft but certain]
“Is that so?
Then why does it feel like I’m the only one you can’t forget?”
Feliz opened her mouth—but no words came out.
Because the truth sat there, raw and real, and she hated it.
She couldn’t forget him.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
Sly [grinning, voice dropping low]
“Don’t worry, Fel. I’m not going anywhere.
Not until you admit it.”
Feliz turned on her heel before she could betray herself further, her heart hammering in her chest as she marched toward the door.
But she could feel him behind her—feel the weight of his gaze like a brand on her skin.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
And as much as she told herself she hated him,
as much as she tried to deny the pull...
A part of her—
a dangerous, reckless part—
was already addicted to the way he made her feel.
---
As she disappeared through the door, Sly leaned back against the counter, a satisfied grin playing at his lips.
He wasn’t in a hurry.
No...
Feliz Flores was a challenge worth taking his time for.
And he was just getting started.
[TO BE CONTINUED...]
- Writer
