The drive to campus was like thirty to forty minutes, but it felt like a lifetime of change happened. I rolled down the window, letting the fresh air sweep through my hair as I drove slowly past groups of students dragging duffels and hauling boxes. There were smiles, excited squeals, and the hum of new beginnings everywhere.
Welcome, Kimberly Ashford.
The guard waved me through like he knew me already, and maybe he did. Dad's name carried weight. So did my last name. I tried to pretend it didn't make my cheeks burn when students glanced over.
Pulling into the freshman residence lot, I parked my BMW Z4 neatly in one of the reserved spaces. A valet, yes, even dorms had valet service, came forward with a polite smile.
"Need helps with bags, miss?"
"Just the ones in the back, thanks."
I tossed on my sunglasses and stepped out, glancing at the towering white-brick building ahead. Winslow Hall, home for the next year. Inside, the check-in buzzed with noise. Student IDs being handed out, welcome bags passed over counters, and music softly playing from some Bluetooth speaker tucked into a corner.
"Name?" the housing coordinator asked with a tired but friendly smile.
"Kimberly Ashford."
She looked up. "Ah. You're in Room 204. Second floor. East wing."
She handed me a sleek packet. "That's your keycard. Class schedule, campus map, and your roommate's info are in there."
Dragging my suitcase behind me, I headed for the elevator, passing a few girls who were already posting dorm selfies by the marble staircase.
Room 204.
I slid in my keycard, the door unlocking with a soft click. It was bright and cozy. Two twin beds pushed to opposite walls, each with their own study desk and a small shared sitting area in the middle. Someone had already claimed the right side. Polaroids were clipped to a string of fairy lights, and a navy-blue throw blanket was folded perfectly on the bed.
The bathroom door creaked open, and a girl stepped out, towel wrapped around her head.
She froze when she saw me. Then her face lit up. "Oh my God. You're my roommate?'
I blinked. "Looks like it."
"I'm Sloane, Sloane Ramirez. I didn't think you'd show until later!"
Her eyes flicked to my suitcase, then to the key in my hand. "You're Kimberly, right? Like... that Kimberly?"
I laughed nervously. "There are so many Kimberly, but I guess. Yeah."
She grinned wider. "You have no idea how relieved I am that you're not some icy heiress type. Please don't be psychotic."
"I'll try my best," I joked.
She stepped over and offered her hand. "You cool with sharing closet space?"
I shoot it. "Only if we both agree to never fight over shoes."
"Deal."
I exhaled, tension erasing from my shoulders. So far... this didn't suck.
I placed my last bag on the bed and started unpacking, but as I reached for my phone, I caught sight of a new notification lighting up my lock screen.
Adrian: "I'm on campus. Where are you?'
I replied and kept unpacking. When I finished, Sloane and I began arguing over whether our mini fridge should be filled with sparkling water or actual food. Halfway through our argument, we paused when we heard a collective gasp echo from outside. Then shouting, screaming.
"What's going on out there?" Sloane blinked, heading toward the window. "Did someone just faint?"
I followed behind her, curious.
And then I saw it.
A sleek black and orange Bugatti Chiron Super Sport 300+ purred to a halt right in front of our building. It gleamed like metallic, dangerous and fast. A crowd of students had already gathered, phones up, jaws slack.
"Holy crap," Sloane whispered. "Who even—wait, is that?"
The driver door opened, and he stepped out. Adrian Thorne.
Dark hair tousled to perfection, black sweats hugging his frame, crisp white sneaker and that same untouchable, slow burning confidence. My heart flipped and then dropped because he was heading straight for my building.
"Is he coming here?" Sloane asked. "Oh my God, he's looking up. He's looking here."
I backed away from the window, pulse racing. There was a knock on our door minutes later.
Sloane arched a brow. "Girl... if that is who I think it is, you better spill."
I didn't move. Another knock came in, softer this time. Sloane sighed, walked over and opened the door. And there he was. Adrian. In the doorway.
"Hey," he said, eyes never leaving mine. "You looked just as beautiful from your window as I remember."
Sloane's mouth dropped open a little. "Oh. Wow. Okay. This is—wow."
Adrian turned to her politely, that trademark smirk playing at his lips. "Would you mind giving us a few minutes?"
Sloane blinked. "You... want me to leave my own room?"
"I'd owe you one." His voice was silk.
She looked at me. I gave a helpless shrug.
She sighed. "Fifteen minutes, Romeo. Tops."
When the door closed behind her, silence fell like a heavy blanket. Adrian stepped inside, slow and casual, but his eyes were dark and focused. I backed up until I felt the desk hit the back of my legs.
"You didn't text me when you got here," he said quietly.
"I was still settling in."
He moved closer. "You looked like you had a lot to say at the anniversary party... but your lips never opened."
I swallowed. He was standing in front of me now, inches away.
"You shouldn't be here," I whispered.
He leaned in just enough that I felt his breath on my skin. "And yet... here I am."
His fingers brushed my wrist, tracing a light path up my arm. Slow, like he was memorizing it.
"I didn't come to mess with you, Kimberly. I came because I can't stop thinking about you. Because that night? You didn't stop me."
My breath hitched. "I know.'
"And that meant you liked it."
I remained silent. He stepped even closer, so that the space between us vanished.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered. "Right now. And I'll walk out that door."
I didn't. Instead, I looked up at him. Felt the heat build between us like a fuse slowly burning. And I whispered.
"Don't."
Before I could even process what I'd said, Adrian leaned in. His lips brushed mine. Lightly at first, like he was testing something he already knew the answer to.
And then I kissed him back.
There was no hesitation. No second-guessing, just heat, raw and immediate. It spilled into me like wildfire. One of his hands cupped my jaw, the other settled against my waist, pulling me closer until there was no air between us.
My heart thundered against my chest as I curled my fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, clinging to him like I'd been waiting years for this moment. He deepened the kiss, slow and consuming, like he wasn't in a hurry to stop.
"I shouldn't want this," I breathed between kisses. "But I do."
Adrian rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. "You think I haven't been losing my mind trying to control the urge to have you?"
Then his arms swept around me. Before I could speak, I was lifted, his grip secure, protective, full of heat and tension. He walked us toward my bed and gently laid me down, hovering just above, never breaking eye contact.
We kissed again. And that's when it happened.
The door swung open.
"Oh—oh my God!" Sloane's voice rang out, high-pitched and stunned. "I just... I forgot my phone!"
Adrian froze. We both turned toward the door at the exact same time. Sloane was standing there, half in, half out, her eyes wide with shock and a hand slapped over her mouth.
I sat bolt upright, breath shallow, heart absolutely sprinting.
"Sloane!" I gasped, trying to smooth my hair, my voice high with embarrassment.