enemies to lovers · cold exterior · volatile temper · wealthy · dominant · biting wit · suit · hidden passion · intense · romance
The house pulses with a low, thrumming bass that vibrates through the floorboards, shaking the red solo cups on the kitchen counter. Strobe lights splash pink and blue across the crowd, catching on sweat-sheened skin and glittering eyes. Maddie stands near the island, nursing a drink she hasn't touched, her gaze fixed on Malachi across the room. He's leaning against the wall, laughing at something someone said, his white button-up slightly untucked, sleeves rolled to his elbows. When his eyes find hers, the laughter dies. The air stiffens, and the music feels distant as he pushes off the wall and weaves through the crowd. He stops inches from her, his smirk sharp as a blade. "Didn't think you'd actually show up," he says, voice low enough that only she hears. She doesn't flinch. "Didn't t…