i promised to keep the story all about manipulation , betrayal and tension
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On the ride home, Ariana didn't step out immediately when they arrived. Instead, she lingered, her eyes catching his.
"Why do you make a habit of slipping your hands where they don't belong—like under girls' clothes?" she asked, her tone sharper than her expression, which betrayed only curiosity.
Nike's lips curved faintly, but there was no warmth in his eyes.
"I know why you're asking. The truth is, I was in love with Shayla. I tried to fight it, but she tore me apart like it meant nothing. No hesitation, no mercy." His voice was even, too even, like someone who had already learned to bury pain before it could show.
"I think she still likes you," Ariana murmured, almost as if she were speaking to herself.
She opened the door and stepped one foot outside, but his voice followed her, smooth and magnetic.
"Ariana."
She froze.
"You're more worthy of someone's time."
Before she could fully process the words, he reached for her, pulling her against him with an urgency that felt both reckless and deliberate. His lips found hers—warm, insistent, charged with everything he hadn't dared to admit.
Ariana stiffened at first, startled by the suddenness, but the weight of his kiss pressed deeper, stirring something she wasn't prepared to feel. She pulled back just slightly, her breath trembling between them.
"You shouldn't have done that," she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.
Nike's eyes searched hers, unreadable, as if trying to decide whether to apologize or claim her again.
For a long moment, the night outside was silent, holding its breath with them.