Chapter 9: Mixed Signals
1021 Words
Chapter 9: Mixed Signals
Kael Veyra’s POV
I spent the rest of the day trying to shake off what Draven had said to me in class. But the words kept circling in my mind, like a song I couldn’t get out of my head.
You’re not her, Kael. And I’m not the same guy I was when I was with her.
Why had he said that? And why did it matter to him what I thought?
“Earth to Kael,” Livia said, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Huh?” I blinked, realizing I’d zoned out.
“You’ve been staring at your coffee for, like, five minutes. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I lied, taking a sip and immediately grimacing at how cold it had gotten.
Livia raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, huh? Does ‘nothing’ have anything to do with a certain dark-haired, smug-as-hell bad boy?”
“No,” I said quickly. Too quickly.
She grinned. “Oh, it totally does. Spill.”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “It’s just... he said something earlier. Something weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Weird like... I think he was trying to explain himself. Or, like, reassure me or something.”
Livia’s eyes widened. “Draven Ashford explained himself? Are we talking about the same guy?”
“That’s what I’m saying! It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Okay, back up. What exactly did he say?”
I hesitated, then told her about the conversation with Draven and Sera’s little warning. By the time I finished, Livia was practically bouncing in her seat.
“Oh my God. He likes you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s just messing with me. That’s what he does.”
“Kael, come on. Guys like Draven don’t go around explaining themselves unless they care. Even a little.”
“Or unless they’re trying to mess with your head,” I muttered.
Livia sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe he’s complicated. But that doesn’t mean he’s faking everything. Maybe there’s more to him than you think.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. But as we left the café and headed back to the dorms, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said.
The next day, I walked into class determined to keep my distance from Draven. No more games, no more overanalyzing, no more... whatever this was.
But of course, Draven had other plans.
“Morning, Veyra,” he said as I slid into my seat. “Sleep well?”
“Fine,” I said curtly, keeping my eyes on my notebook.
“Really? Because you seem tense.”
“I’m not tense.”
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “You sure about that?”
I clenched my jaw, refusing to look at him. “What do you want, Draven?”
“To make sure we’re still on for the presentation prep later.”
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever.”
He chuckled, clearly amused by my attempt to shut him down. “See you at the library, then.”
By the time I arrived at the library that evening, I was already regretting agreeing to meet him. But we had a project to finish, and I wasn’t about to let Draven Ashford be the reason I tanked my grade.
He was already there when I walked in, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Right on time,” he said, flashing that infuriating grin.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I muttered, dropping my bag onto the table and pulling out my notes.
For the first half hour, we stayed on task, refining the outline and brainstorming interactive ideas for the presentation. It felt... oddly normal. Calm, even.
But then Draven, being Draven, couldn’t help himself.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair again, “are you going to tell me why you’ve been acting weird all day?”
“I’m not acting weird.”
“Right,” he said, giving me a look that clearly said he didn’t believe me. “Is this about what I said yesterday?”
“No,” I lied.
He smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, Veyra.”
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples with frustration. “Why do you care, anyway?”
His smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked almost... thoughtful. “Maybe I just don’t like it when you’re pissed off at me.”
“Well, maybe you should stop giving me reasons to be pissed off.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Then, before I could react, he leaned in—closer than necessary, closer than he should’ve—and brushed a loose strand of hair off my face, his fingertips barely grazing my skin.
My breath caught in my throat, and I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. Draven’s eyes were locked on mine, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his gaze that made my pulse race.
“You look beautiful even when you’re pissed, Veyra,” he murmured, his voice low and unexpectedly gentle, like he’d forgotten for a second that he was supposed to be teasing me.
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Because what was I supposed to say to that? How was I supposed to react when the guy who’d spent weeks driving me insane was suddenly... looking at me like that?
Draven leaned back casually, his signature smirk sliding back into place, as though the charged moment had never happened. But his eyes were still dark, still intense, and I knew that whatever had just passed between us wasn’t over.
“See you tomorrow, Veyra,” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me sitting there, blushing like an i***t and wondering how the hell he kept getting under my skin.
- Writer
