Chapter 3: Glow-Up & Glances

Aria’s POV

Kael’s lazy stare sharpened. Rian paused mid-laugh, mouth still open. Luca sat up straighter, eyes dragging from my boots to my mouth like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

For half a second, no one spoke.

And I lived for it.

Their girlfriends turned to see what had stunned their Alpha boys — and all I did was raise a brow, roll my eyes like I hadn’t noticed them gawking, and walk right past them with the smoothest bitch please energy I’d ever mustered.

Behind me, I heard Rian break the silence.

“Okay, what in the actual—?”

“She looks... different,” Luca said.

“Hot,” Rian muttered.

Kael said nothing.

I didn’t wait around for their commentary. I took the stairs two at a time, not sparing them a glance.

As I reached the top, I heard Rian again — ever the loudmouth.

“Whoever we end up with as mates... I swear, I’m treating her like royalty. Can’t be messing around like these other jerks.”

“Yeah,” Luca added. “Mate comes first. No games.”

Kael grunted. “Tch. Of course.”

And me? I just rolled my eyes again.

"Whoever ends up being their mate — poor soul."

I closed my door behind me with a sigh.

I changed into a hoodie and leggings, wiped off the makeup, and tossed my hair into a messy bun. It wasn’t like I had plans. The glow-up was for me, not for them.

I just wanted to sleep.

My head hit the pillow.

Knock. Knock.

I groaned.

“Seriously?”

Dragging myself up, I crossed the room and opened the door — and froze.

Kael.

Leaning against the frame, arms crossed. His stormy eyes scanning me like he was still processing something.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just looked at me like I’d punched him in the chest.

I blinked. “Can I help you?”

He cleared his throat, gaze sharp but unreadable. “You got a minute?”

My brows rose. “What — coming to throw another drink at me?”

His jaw flexed.

“No,” he said. “I came to say something.”

And just like that, my heart thudded.

Because Kael never said anything that wasn’t cutting.

And yet... he looked almost nervous.

I stood there like a deer caught in a storm of testosterone and poor decision-making.

Kael.

At my door. At this hour. With that face.

And that voice.

“You got a minute?” he asked, deep and low like the start of a bad idea.

I opened my mouth to say nope, but the man had already crossed the threshold like this was his damn house — which, okay, technically it was, but boundaries?

“Um, I didn’t say—” I started.

He shut the door behind him.

Click.

And my spine straightened.

He turned around, slow and casual, like he wasn’t the same guy who had poured a drink over my head the night before. Like he wasn’t a walking red flag wrapped in six feet of sin.

“Nice hoodie,” he said, voice like velvet-dipped fire. “You always hide after looking that good?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Oh, he was really doing this. He was actually in my room, throwing half-baked compliments like we were cool.

“What do you want, Kael?”

He shrugged, strolling toward me with a slow, lazy gait — the kind that made your legs itch to run or lock together, depending on your level of self-preservation.

I took a step back.

“Stop walking.”

He didn’t.

I took another step back.

“Kael, seriously. Leave me alone.”

Still didn’t.

It wasn’t until my back hit the wall that I realized I’d made a mistake. A strategic error. Because now he was right in front of me — towering, shirt slightly rumpled, the scent of mint and danger wrapping around me like a trap.

His hands came up, pressing on either side of the wall beside my head, caging me in.

I sucked in a breath.

Not fear — not really. But not comfort, either.

I hated how my body reacted around him. Like it hadn’t read the damn rulebook.

“You always talk this much?” he murmured, dipping his head a little too close. “Or is it just when I’m around?”

“I talk when people invade my space,” I hissed, trying to lean away.

He smirked.

Gods. That smirk.

“You looked real pretty tonight,” he said, eyes dropping to my mouth for a single second too long. “Should’ve let that side out a long time ago.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what?” he asked, voice dipped in faux-innocence. “Talking? Standing? Breathing near you? You’ll have to be specific, baby.”

His hand came up — rough palm brushing the side of my cheek.

I froze.

My heart betrayed me, thudding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

Kael. The brute. The bastard.

His thumb grazed the corner of my lip like he owned it.

And in my head, I screamed:

“I hate him... but gods, why does this feel so good?”