Meaningless kiss

Elise’s POV

“Do you live up there?” Damien asked, nodding toward the house at the end of the street. His hands were clamped so hard on the steering wheel that his knuckles had gone pale.

“Yes,” I admitted, my voice barely more than a breath. “But you really don’t have to drive me all the way.” I gave a nervous laugh and risked a glance at his sharp profile.

“Why not?”

“Because… my roommates will freak out if they see you.”

One of his brows rose. “Fans of mine?”

Fans? My brow creased in confusion. What was he even talking about?

“I’m kind of known around campus,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You are?”

“Yes.”

The smugness in his tone made me want to roll my eyes.

“Well, that’s not the reason,” I muttered.

“Then what is?”

Heat rushed up my neck, and I shook my head. “Forget it.”

“Out with it, Elise,” he sighed, impatience lacing his voice.

“Fine.” I closed my eyes and blurted it before I lost the courage. “I’ve never brought a guy home before. My roommates will… they’ll…” The words broke off, too heavy to finish.

My chest felt tight. Abigail and Aurora had always called me hopeless when it came to men, and if Damien walked through that door with me, I would never hear the end of it. They’d laugh, tease, and accuse me of having a crush on him. And maybe they wouldn’t be completely wrong. Damien wasn’t ordinary, but that was exactly what made this a disaster waiting to happen.

Abigail would probably cackle that this project was the closest I’d ever get to dating someone attractive. She’d be right, too. It wasn’t like guys were lining up for me.

She and Aurora were everything I wasn’t, stunning, confident, magnetic. They dated men who looked like they belonged on magazine covers, while I was the short, quiet roommate who stumbled over her own words.

It wasn’t that I wanted to be alone forever. I just wasn’t beautiful. And my roommates never let me forget it.

“I’m coming inside,” Damien announced.

My head whipped toward him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Before I could protest, he had already pulled into the driveway and parked. He stepped out, grabbed my bag like it weighed nothing, and headed for the porch.

“What are you doing?” I scrambled after him, nearly jogging to keep up with his long strides. “You don’t have to come in. Really, just leave me here. It’s fine.”

He looked down at me but said nothing. Instead, he pushed open the door and walked in like he owned the place.

The door shut behind us, and footsteps padded down the hall. My heart leapt to my throat as Abigail appeared.

Oh no.

She leaned against the wall, eyes widening before her hand flew dramatically to her chest. Her gaze swept over Damien, slow and assessing, then landed on me with a wicked grin.

“Oh, my, oh, my.” Her voice dripped with mockery. “Elise, are you dating Damien Lancaster now?”

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

Abigail knew full well I had never dated anyone, yet she said it like I had options. The smug curve of her lips made my stomach twist. She was enjoying this too much.

Why did she have to be here?

Before I could recover, Aurora stepped out of the kitchen. Her jaw dropped the instant she saw him.

“Well, hello there.” Her eyes raked over Damien, blatant in their interest. “I didn’t realise our roommate was friends with the Dashing Devils’ quarterback. How do you two even know each other?”

Quarterback?

Oh my God. As if I didn’t already feel small, now I had to process that Damien was the star quarterback on top of everything else.

I braced myself for his usual arrogant smirk, but instead, Damien smiled. It looked forced, though, like something practiced.

“Elise and I are best friends,” he said easily. Then, before I could breathe, he added, “In fact…”

The words barely registered because suddenly Damien scooped me off the ground.

What in the actual hell?

He was impossibly strong, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist before I even thought about it, my body reacting on instinct. His cologne wrapped around me, dizzying and warm. My heart slammed against my ribs as his mouth pressed to mine.

Damien Lancaster was kissing me.

And not just a quick brush of lips. No, he kissed me like he owned every part of me, his tongue sliding against mine, stealing every thought and every breath until there was nothing left but him.

Oh God…

He knows exactly what he is doing. His kiss is fierce, consuming, and the taste of him sends shivers racing across my skin. I swore I could not stand him, yet here I am, melting in his arms as if I had been waiting for this moment all along.

It feels like sparks are breaking loose between us, and when he finally pulls back, I almost beg him not to stop.

I can hardly breathe. My heart is racing, my head spinning, and all I can do is stare at him. He stares right back, his expression softer than I ever expected. Or am I imagining that? Wait… is he actually blushing?

We keep blinking at each other like complete fools, neither of us moving away. My hands are still on his shoulders, and his arms are still holding me close. I stay in his embrace. He does not let me go.

The spell only breaks when Aurora clears her throat and drags Abigail toward the kitchen. Before they vanish, I catch their faces, wide-eyed, mouths hanging open.

Then comes Abigail’s voice, loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear. “Holy crap, Elise is dating the hottest guy on campus! How did she pull that off?”

Aurora chimes in right away. “I know! She is ridiculously lucky!”

Their words twist in my stomach. I glance at Damien, but he looks just as dazed as I feel, though he is the one who started this. What on earth is going through his maddeningly handsome head?

I meet his eyes. He meets mine. Then, finally, he speaks. “Where is your room?”

Why is he still carrying me?

“My… my room?” My lips part nervously. They still tingle from his kiss. “It is the last door down the hall, on the left. The one with the stickers on it.”

“Got it.”

Without hesitation, he strides down the corridor, still holding me like I weigh nothing. My arms loop around his neck on instinct, and my legs feel useless, too weak to even think about standing. He pushes my door open with one hand, steps inside, and sets me down gently on my bed.

I tilt my head, watching in disbelief as he shuts the door behind him. I expected him to leave right away, but instead his eyes roam across my tiny, bare room. There is not much to see. I am broke, and it shows.

Finally, I find the courage to ask, my voice small. “Why… why did you kiss me out there?”

His gaze cuts back to mine. One brow arches. “Are you not single?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I push my hair off my shoulder. “That is not the point.”

He shrugs, as if it is nothing. “I saw the perfect chance.”

Perfect chance? What does that even mean? Did he just use me?

“What chance are you talking about?” My shyness slips, and anger creeps in. My voice stays calm, but my pulse hammers.

“I do not date,” Damien says casually, “but it would help me if you pretended to be my girlfriend. It would keep the gold diggers away.”

A sharp laugh bursts from me. “You think girls would actually back off? No. They would try even harder. One look at me, and they would see zero competition.”

He grins, pure arrogance lighting his face. “True. They would take one look at you, notice you are as flat as a board, and throw themselves at me anyway.”

My face burns. That is cruel.

“Completely accurate, though, is it not?” he adds.

I drop my gaze, embarrassed. “You are such a jerk.”

“Maybe,” he says easily. “But think about it. Looking around this room, it is obvious you do not have much. My wallet, however, is very comfortable.”

I narrow my eyes. Really? He is trying to buy me now?

“I could at least make sure you eat a real meal every day,” he adds.

And of course, right on cue, my stomach growls. Damien bursts out laughing, the sound unguarded, and butterflies twist in my belly. I hate that reaction. He is still a jerk.

“Why do you even need a fake girlfriend?” I ask.

“Mostly because of my parents,” Damien admits, scanning my bare walls without really looking at me. “And because a few girls at school might finally back off.”

So he does not want them hanging on him? Why? Guys like him usually live for that kind of attention.

“I see…” I mutter.

“So,” he leans closer, “do we have a deal?”

“Well…” My hand drifts to the side of my neck while I weigh his words. “It would be nice to eat something better than instant noodles every day.”

“Yeah?”

“But I do not know…”

“Come on, Elise,” Damien presses. “It would be easy. It is not like kissing me or holding my hand is dangerous. You did not feel anything when it happened, right?”

My head snaps up. His eyes lock on mine, and I want to laugh it off, but the way he asks makes it sound like he actually wants to know. Which is ridiculous, because I definitely did not feel anything. Not really.

He is attractive, yes. That is the only reason my body reacted. Not because there is chemistry. Guys like him and girls like me do not mix. Damien and Elise are complete opposites, like fire and snow.

“Of course not!” I laugh, though it sounds forced even to my own ears. I pray he does not notice.

To my relief, Damien laughs too. “Yeah, I thought so. No sparks, no lightning, no urge to tear off your clothes… nothing. Just a plain, meaningless kiss.”

Strangely, I do not feel insulted. If anything, relief floods through me. Damien Lancaster would never actually want someone like me. At least now I can stop letting my imagination run wild.

“Yes,” I agree. “Completely meaningless.”

We both smile, but the air feels heavier anyway. My chest feels tight. My heart pounds faster. My eyes trace the strong line of his neck, down to the solid frame hidden under his hoodie. He is powerful. Steady.

Damien’s gaze dips to my lips, then briefly down before returning to my face. He drags his tongue across his mouth, and my stomach flips traitorously.

I clap my hands together. “You should probably go.”

That snaps him out of it. “Right,” he says, heading for the door. But before leaving, he glances back, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Same time tomorrow? Do not stand me up.”

I swallow hard, heat still lingering on my lips. “I would not dream of it.”