Barsea, Belford’s finest seafood restaurant and bar, buzzed with energy. Students were scattered across tables, drinks in hand, laughter floating above the murmur of voices.
Craig Lesnar stood by the entrance, letting his eyes adjust to the dim, nautical glow of the room. Wood-paneled walls, hanging ship lanterns, and soft-lit fish tanks gave the place a warm, upscale vibe, like you could almost forget this was still a college town crawling with bored rich kids.
He scanned the crowd out of habit. Most faces blurred into one forgettable sea. Sa smiles, sa fake confidence. All noise.
But then, like a needle through static, one face didn’t blur.
rlina.
She sat at a corner booth with Phoebe and gan. Her laugh was soft, her gestures calm, but it wasn’t just what she was doing. It was how she was. There was sothing deliberate about her stillness. Like she didn’t need to be loud to be noticed, she just was.
She wore a black shimr sleeveless top tucked into a high-waisted leather skirt. Black again. She always wore black. Not just for the aesthetic, he could tell. It was armor. A shield. A choice. Everything about her felt intentional, like she’d built herself brick by brick to keep sothing out. Or maybe to keep sothing in.
Not his usual type. He liked girls like his girlfriend, Adriana. Being, unapologetic, flirtatious to a fault. Girls who played the ga because they knew they could win it.
rlina wasn’t playing anything. She wasn’t trying to perform, to provoke, to win anyone over. She just existed on her own terms, like the room didn’t matter. Like he didn’t matter.
That was what made it hard to look away.
He didn’t want to admit it, but there was sothing about her that scratched at the back of his mind. Sothing quiet but insistent. Like a mory he didn’t know he had.
She was so composed, it pissed him off a little. Because it wasn’t an act. She wasn’t pretending to be calm. She was calm. Poised. Controlled.
"What are you looking at?" Keith’s voice sliced into his thoughts.
Craig blinked. Keith had just finished tying his boots, slowly, of course, while Craig waited by the door with zero patience.
"Nothing." Craig shoved the keys into his pocket as Keith handed them over.
They stepped inside. The scent of grilled shrimp and lemon butter hit imdiately. Plates sizzled. Soone cheered. Music pulsed low beneath the clinking of cutlery.
Keith greeted people like a damn politician. Craig didn’t. He never needed to work the room. People already knew who he was.
As Craig moved past the bar, two girls from his economics class locked eyes with him. One of them casually ran her fingers through her hair and leaned a little closer to her friend. The other, bolder, shot him a smile that could’ve lted ice. "Nice to see you, Craig," she said, her voice just a little too sweet. Craig didn’t even break his stride but offered a quick smirk. The girl’s grin only widened as he walked away, her gaze trailing after him, lingering a little too long.
He wasn’t fond of people. He preferred control.
His world was small, it included Keith, Conor, Adriana. That was enough. Even with Conor, things were volatile. They could go a week without speaking after a fight. But Craig always broke the silence first. Blood ca before pride.
The rest of the world? It could burn.
Still, people always had sothing to say about him. Professors bent over backward. Students obsessed. Girls were the worst. They would fake shy in class, only to corner him after with so excuse about tutoring. So skipped the pretense altogether, like that one girl who grabbed his face and kissed him outside a dorm party. Her friends took pictures. It made him want to delete every trace of himself from the internet.
Adriana didn’t care. She expected it. She understood what dating him ca with: attention, envy, chaos. She liked the spectacle. Sotis he wondered if that was all they had left.
They sat. Ordered. Keith launched into his usual routine, flirting with the server, scanning the room like he was hosting so ga show for himself.
"So many hot freshers," Keith said, leaning back. "I’ve got my eye on one."
Craig didn’t respond. He already knew where this was headed.
"You wanna start hitting on them now?" Craig asked, voice dry.
Keith’s eyes lit up. "I would bring her over, but I know you wouldn’t like that. You’re Belford’s finest anti-social dick, rember?"
Craig rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Bring her."
Keith didn’t wait for a second chance. "You sure?"
"Don’t make regret it."
Too late.
Keith scribbled on a napkin and flagged down a waitress with his signature wink. Craig barely paid attention, until the waitress turned and made her way to that table.
rlina’s table.
Craig’s chest tightened. A sharp flicker of sothing. Annoyance? Anticipation ? It cut through him. "Not that table," he muttered.
"Why not?" Keith asked, brows pulling together.
Craig clenched his jaw. "I knew this was a bad idea."
Keith smirked like he knew sothing Craig didn’t. "Relax. It’s gonna be fun."
Craig didn’t respond. He watched as the waitress delivered the napkin. Phoebe passed it to rlina, who opened it slowly, one brow lifting.
Then she looked up.
Their eyes locked across the room, and for a split second, it felt like everything else fell silent.
Her face didn’t move. No smile. No frown. Just stared. Steady and unbothered, like she was trying to figure him out but wasn’t in a rush to do it.
He held her gaze. He shouldn’t have.
But there was sothing in her look. Calm, deliberate that felt like a challenge wrapped in silence.
She didn’t look away.
Not at first.
When she finally did, it stung more than he wanted to admit. Worse still...he wished he had looked away first.
His pulse spiked. He blinked like it would clear the fog from his head.
Craig leaned back in his chair and cursed under his breath. "F*ck."
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