The ice cream shop was quiet, the hum of the freezer the only sound as Emily swirled her spoon through the melting vanilla.
Ethan sat across from her, perfectly at ease, eating like they had all the time in the world — which made no sense, considering he'd pulled her out of class for this.
"You're impossible," she muttered.
He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow lifting. "And yet… you're here."
Emily focused very hard on her cup. "Because you kidnapped me."
"Kidnapped is such an ugly word," he said lightly. "I prefer… relocated."
She shot him a look. "Normal people don't 'relocate' strangers."
"I don't do normal," he said simply.
Something in the way he said it made her spoon pause mid-air. It wasn't a joke. It wasn't even arrogant — just a statement of fact.
"What do you do, then?" she asked before she could stop herself.
For a moment, he didn't answer. Then, his gaze locked with hers, sharp enough to pin her to her seat. "Things you don't pray about in public."
Her chest tightened, and she tried to cover it with a weak laugh. "That's… comforting."
His smirk returned, but there was still something unreadable in his eyes. "Relax, angel. I don't hurt good girls."
Emily swallowed. "And what about bad girls?"
"They don't last long," he said casually, as if discussing the weather.
The words sank into her skin like ice. She glanced down, suddenly finding the table between them very interesting.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before she asked, "Why me?"
Ethan didn't even pretend to think about it. "Because you're pure. And purity's… rare."
"That's not a reason."
"It's enough for me."
Her heart thudded in her ears. She didn't know if he was complimenting her or warning her. Maybe both.
When they finally stepped outside, the air felt heavier somehow. And as he walked her back toward campus, Emily realized she wasn't sure which was more dangerous — the rumors swirling about him, or the truth she was starting to suspect.
---