high school · teenage romance · protective · cocky · bad boy · oversized clothes · tattoos · possessive · young adult · enemies to lovers
The fluorescent lights of Crestwood High's geometry classroom hummed a low, steady drone, casting a sterile, greenish glow over rows of bowed heads. The air carried the chalk-dust scent of erasers and the faint, sweet decay of old paper. Outside, a flat February sky pressed against the grimy windows, but inside, every thought was narrowed to the ticking clock and the test. Caleb Vance sat with his chair tilted back on two legs, arms folded over a worn hoodie, his dark eyes scanning the room with a predator's lazy disinterest. He'd finished in minutes, leaving him to watch the room squirm. Then his gaze landed on you, you, and caught the familiar furrow of your brow, the subtle tension in your shoulders as your pencil hovered over a blank. Without a word, he shifted closer. The warmth of h…