In love with a playboy

Chapter 4

Elijah’s POV

Tuesday morning came slow, the kind of morning where everything feels lazy, even the sun. I wasn’t in a rush though. I was still thinking about yesterday — the bet, the boys laughing, and Grace walking past like she couldn’t see a damn thing.

But it stuck in my head — the way she moved, calm, graceful, untouched. The kind of girl that didn’t even know the effect she had.

So, I figured, why not start early? I always win my dares. This wasn’t going to be any different.

I pulled up at school in my black hoodie and ripped jeans — nothing flashy, just enough. I knew I looked good. My hair was fresh, chain resting against my chest, and my cologne did half the talking when I walked by. Girls stared, the usual whispers — “He’s so fine,” “I’d let him ruin my life,” — yeah, I hear that all the time.

But today, none of that mattered.

I had one goal: Grace.

I spotted her by the lockers near the science block. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had a stack of books in her hand. Still in that long skirt and plain blouse, like she walked out of a church magazine. But somehow… damn, she still looked good. Her skin was smooth, lips soft and full, and her eyes — serious but deep like they’d seen things most girls hadn’t.

I made my move.

I walked up slow, confident. Not too fast, not too cool — just enough to grab her attention.

“Hey,” I said, giving her my best smile. “Grace, right?”

She turned her head, barely looking at me. “Yeah?”

Her voice was low, calm — not nervous, not flirty. Just... neutral.

I was a little thrown off. “I’m Elijah,” I said. “Thought I’d finally introduce myself. Been seeing you around.”

She gave me the quickest glance, then turned back to her locker like I wasn’t even standing there.

No smile. No blush. No giggle. Nothing.

I blinked. Girls don’t do that to me. Ever.

Usually, this is where they start playing with their hair, biting their lip, asking me where I live or if I have a girlfriend. But this one? She just picked out her textbook and zipped up her bag.

“I like your vibe,” I tried again. “You seem different. I mean that in a good way.”

She finally looked at me properly, brows slightly raised. “Is there something you need?”

I actually chuckled. “Wow. Okay, you’re not like the other girls here.”

“I know I’m not,” she replied without missing a beat.

I leaned on the locker next to hers, trying not to let it show that she was messing with my confidence. “You always this serious?”

She paused, then said calmly, “I just don’t have time for games.”

That line hit harder than expected. She didn’t even sound annoyed — just firm. Like she’s used to shutting down trash before it even starts.

“I’m not playing games,” I said, raising my hands slightly. “Just trying to talk. I thought maybe we could get to know each other.”

“You don’t know me,” she said. “And I don’t know you. So let’s keep it that way.”

Damn.

She walked off like I didn’t just throw my ego on the floor for her to stomp on.

I stood there for a second, watching her walk away, that skirt swaying, her back straight, head high. She wasn’t even trying to look sexy, but somehow it turned me on more than half-naked girls in a club.

Jake walked up behind me, laughing. “So, how’s that going?”

“She ignored me,” I said, still looking in the direction she left.

Jake whistled. “Ouch.”

Liam popped up too, grinning. “Maybe church girls are immune to Elijah’s charm.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t know what she’s missing yet,” I said.

They laughed, and I tried to laugh too, but deep down it stung. Not because she said no — girls say no sometimes — but because she didn’t even care that I asked.

It wasn’t just rejection. It was indifference.

That’s rare for me.

By lunchtime, I caught her again in the cafeteria, sitting with that loud friend of hers — Becky, I think her name is. They were eating, Grace reading from some Christian book and Becky scrolling through her phone.

I didn’t walk up. I just watched from the other side of the room.

There was something about the way she carried herself. No makeup, no fake smiles, no games. She was raw. Real. And it was messing with my head.

Later that day, I got in my car, leaned back, and sighed.

She really didn’t give a damn about me.

And that... kinda made me want her more.

It wasn’t just about the car anymore, or the bet — though yeah, I’m still winning that. But there was something else now. Some pull I couldn’t shake.

And I knew one thing for sure:

I’d never met a girl like Grace before.