♣ ♣ ♣
I S L A
THE BELL ABOVE the front door chimes when someone enters the café, the cool breeze instantly refreshing the room as the scent of rain on the concrete wavers in the air.
Soon enough, the smell of fresh cookies lingers, aromas of freshly brewed coffee and steaming hot tea awaking a trail of comfort in their wake—a sense of home.
"Cute customers," Whitney teases in a whisper in Isla's ear as the latter has her back turned to the incoming people whilst washing the espresso machine.
When Isla peers behind her shoulder, her heart brutally misses a beat at the sight of Romeo Quinn walking in behind Killian. The pair smiles to girls who also go to Eden U as they march towards the counter, the whole room's attention drawn to them.
Romeo instantly catches Isla's eyes and smiles, a dimple showing off. With his backwards cap, a few strands curl over his ears, his cheeks slightly rosy, eyes glinting with sparks of delight—the aftermath of a good hockey practice.
"Oh," is all she says as she turns around, pretending to scrub an inexistant blotch of coffee atop the machine.
Isla's heart rate has picked up but she tries her hardest to not notice the slight change of rhythm thudding inside her chest.
"What is wrong with you?" Whitney mumbles. "Have you not talked to him since Friday night?"
"Nope."
A pause before an outraged inquire flies past her co-worker's lips. "You didn't give him your number?"
"Nope," she answers yet again with the same unfazed tone.
The remainder of Friday evening is a blur. She remembers walking out of the billiard room with a thudding heart, leaving Romeo standing there with parted lips and hopeful eyes. Whilst she had been playing a round of eight-ball with him, Whitney had arrived. She then met her at the bar and they took shots together.
All she remembers is that Nora brought her back to her dorm.
"I like how you're making him work for it, actually," Whitney mumbles, nudging her with an elbow. "Take his order."
"Winnie," Isla whisper-yells, eyes wide as she looks at her friend. "Don't do this to me."
The red-haired manager raises her hands, lifting her shoulders in a sheepish shrug. "Deal with your own mess, Juliet."
"I hate you," Isla snaps whilst putting her cloth down.
She winks. "You'll thank me on your wedding day." Then she giggles, walking into the back kitchen as the oven bell chimes. "That is if your love story isn't a tragedy as well."
"You're impossible," Isla bites out, fighting the smile threatening to take over the edge of her lips.
Killian leans over the countertop, chin propped upon his tattooed fist as he smiles at Isla. "Hey. So, I was thinking we could study here today since Romeo wanted to grab a pastry before heading home, so you wouldn't have to ride under the rain to come over tonight."
Isla blinks, rapidly glancing behind his shoulder to look at Romeo who waves, grinning widely. She scowls, instantly averting her gaze back to Killian. "My break isn't until five."
Killian checks his phone. "That's in thirty minutes."
The brunette lifts her shoulders in a small shrug. "Are you sure you're fine studying here?"
It's the busiest time of the day: customers walking in and out with to-go beverages and snacks, students filling every table whilst studying or catching up with friends, chatter ringing in all corners of the coffee shop.
"I'm fine with whatever my captain suggests," he replies, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Her eyebrows pull together and she fights the urge to glance over to Romeo, feeling his intense gaze upon her face. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Killian's eyes flicker with amusement as he straightens himself, leaning the palms of his hands on the counter. Ever so slightly, he jerks his head in Romeo's direction. "It was his idea to come study here to save you from riding all the way to our place."
She can't help but look at Romeo, blatantly feeling timid when he winks.
"How considerate of him," she utters calmly.
The raven-haired man raises his shoulders in a shrug before slipping his gaze towards the menu over Isla's head. "I'll get a coffee. Black. And a blueberry muffin."
"Okay." Tapping on her tablet, she says, "that'll be—"
Emitting a soft tsk and waving a dismissive hand in the air, he shakes his head. "Quinn is paying for me."
"I am?" Romeo inquires incredulously over Killian's shoulder.
"Yep." And with that, he turns to find a table, taking a seat around a round one nearby the large window where droplets of water cascade down the glass.
It isn't until Romeo steps into her line of vision that she allows herself to meet sapphire eyes. One second feels like eternity when they stare at each other, the faintest smile spreading across his lips as he murmurs a quiet "hi."
"What can I get you?" she asks, at last, diverting her gaze down to her tablet's screen.
"Your number?" His low timber holds a hint of amusement as if he knows all too well that this question is going to irritate her.
It, in fact, does, because she glares at him. "Try again. What can I get you—to eat?"
"You?" He grins and Isla huffs. But it is obvious that she has to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent from curling her lips into a smile or to stop the threatening heat to blush her face.
"Romeo," she deadpans, folding her arms across her chest.
His smile widens when he saunters his gaze over her frame, taking in the grey apron tightly secured around her waist.
"There's a line behind you," she then says, making him lock his gaze with hers again.
He peers behind his shoulder to find no one behind him. "No, I'm not," he snorts softly. "Alright—What do you suggest I get?"
Isla glances to the nearly empty counter, gnawing onto her lower lip without noticing. "Winnie's cinnamon rolls are amazing. Everything is homemade, if you're wondering." She pauses to glance at him, only to find him staring intently at the delicious-looking pastries. "The dough is so soft, the icing just excellent. The triple chocolate cookie is great, too! It's actually my recipe which I gave her when I started working here two—"
"I'll get a cookie," he cuts in.
Isla didn't even realise she had started rambling. When she presses her lips into a thin line, she meets with azure eyes that are filled with minuscule golden sparks, looking like shooting stars in the nightfall sky.
"What?" she asks softly when she notices his features relaxing, a small smile still on his lips.
"Nothing," he murmurs, shaking his head. "I'll get a cookie."
She nods, a strange lump forming inside her throat. As he pays, she turns around to make Killian's coffee, a shaky breath flying past her lips. She frowns at herself when her hands tremble as she places the muffin on a plate followed by the cookie on another one.
"There you go," she tells him, sliding the tray towards him.
"Thanks, angel." He winks and with the nudge of his head towards the table where Killian is sat at, he says, "I'll be the sexy one waiting for you to join us in twenty-five minutes."
♣ ♣ ♣
With her chin leaned in the palm of her hand, she follows the tip of Killian's pen scratching upon the paper as he answers the mock test she has prepared for him.
Romeo is sitting right across from her, his earphones plugged in as he slightly bops his head to the rhythm of the music. She tries her hardest to not glance his way when his foot accidentally touches hers. She chews the interior of her cheek, her free hand caressing her upper arm, knowing he is observing her every move.
"I better nail this mid-term or else I'll go feral," Killian mumbles when he flips the page around to answer the second round of questions. "You're making me mad with those fucking questions, Presley."
Isla rolls her eyes and uncaps her water bottle. "That's exactly the kind of questions Professor Allen is going to ask you, so you should be thanking me rather than being a bitch about it."
Killian doesn't look up but his brows pump in bewilderment. "Feisty."
Sensing a powerful regard upon her profile, she can't help but look over to the owner of those cerulean irises that hunt her daydreams.
She knits her eyebrows as if asking "What do you want?"
He merely shrugs, but nudges her foot with his own, taking his cap off to rapidly run his fingers through his hair. She follows his motions as if utterly hypnotised and enthralled by his veiny hands, his silver rings. He jabs her shoe again, and a playful smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when she doesn't retreat.
"I'm going to take a break," Killian announces when he flickers his gaze between his two friends who can't seem to look away from each other. "Isla, where are the toilets?"
She glances at him, scowling at the sight of his brows high with amusement. "Walk past the counter then it's the small corridor on your right."
"Thanks, beautiful," he says with a cocky grin.
In the background, soft music is playing. Isla drums her fingers along the beat on the table, catching Romeo's attention as he studies the numerous rings cladding her fingers. He takes one earphone out, extending it to Isla.
For a fragment of a second, she contemplates accepting his offer but finally takes the earbud, understanding he is silently asking her to get away from this world and to be with him just for a few minutes.
"Queen?" She almost smiles in surprise when the guitar solo of Bohemian Rhapsody echoes in her ear. She braces her forearms over the edge of the table, holding his admirative gaze. "I love this band."
"Yeah?" He grins, turning the volume up so she can enjoy the melody of Brian May's talent. "Me too. I wish I had lived in the '80s just to see them in live concert."
Isla nods, warmth spreading inside her chest. She has been thinking the exact same thing, and she wonders if Romeo can read her like an open book despite the distance she desperately tries to put in between them.
They listen to the remaining of the song in silence, occasionally stealing glances at one another and watching the rain pour outside. The song switches to The Smiths, and she can't help but smile at the sound of This Night Has Opened My Eyes.
Romeo leans forward, grabbing the last piece of cookie that is left on his plate and offering it to Isla. She simply shakes her head in denial and he shrugs before popping the biscuit into his mouth.
"Holy shit," he had said after taking the first bite, eyes wide, almost letting a strangled yet satisfactory moan out of his throat. "This is so good. You have to give me the recipe."
"It's a secret," she had replied. He only smiled softly, flickering his eyes over her face—a longing, obvious adoration shining in those ocean eyes of his.
"Tell me something," Romeo demands quietly, turning the volume down and nudging her foot yet again.
"Tell you what?"
"Anything about you."
Isla shrugs, ever so slightly tilting her head to the side. The glow of the light beams upon Romeo's high cheekbone, and she swears a tint of cerise starts to appear on his skin when they hold gazes.
She shakes her head. "I don't know what you want me to tell you," she whispers.
In this exact moment, even with all the people around and the noises surrounding them, she understands Romeo would shred himself to pieces just to get a glimpse of what alights her soul. Of what passionates her and sets her heart ablaze.
Perhaps she is selfish for guarding her heart—but why would she willingly hand it to Romeo Quinn? He is the epitome of arrogance and wit and radiates of boldness she could never fathom. But he is also grace and elegance and determination on ice. He is so much more than just a pretty smile—and it scares her to realise this.
"I'll ask, then." His tone is soft, patient as though he doesn't want to push her but still wants to cross the forbidden barrier that has been forced to stand in between. "What are you majoring in?"
"Law," she answers. "International law."
His brows raise in slight surprise. "Damn. Passing the bar?"
She nods, gaze falling to her fingers as she starts to toy with a ring. "That's the plan. At the same time of doing an internship in a big firm."
"Where?"
She shrugs. "New York City, hopefully." The emotion in his eyes is foreign but his soft smile sends a wave of comfort coursing through her veins. "What about you?"
"Business." He grabs Killian's pen and twirls it around his fingers, his gaze now strained on his movements. "Entering the NHL is my life goal, obviously, but we all need a plan B, don't we?"
"Thinking of picking up your father's real estate business?" She takes a sip of water, rapidly glancing at her phone to monitor the time.
He shake his head. "Maybe. Hopefully not, though."
"Why not?" She finds herself being surprised when she playfully kicks his shoe, and puzzlement spreads across his face, but he only teases her with a dimpled smile.
"You see, Isla Presley," he starts, tugging the earbud out as he leans back into his chair, arms folding across his broad chest, "doing house tours isn't really my thing."
She arches an eyebrow. "So what is your thing, then, Romeo Quinn?"
"Hockey," he smiles broadly. "Its thrill. Its universe, history, and its unpredictability. That sensation of skating across the ice and having that one focus to shoot the puck in the opponent's goal."
Romeo's lips move but somehow she doesn't hear the rest of the sentence. He speaks with such passion, with another kind of devotion lighting his eyes.
Isla doesn't even notice the smile taking over her own features, and it's when he pauses that he releases a small sigh. "What?"
"Nothing," she says, standing up. "Score a goal for me when you're in the NHL, yeah?"
Romeo chuckles and follows her movements with his eyes as she secures her apron around her waist. "I will, angel. I will."
For the last time today, she looks into cerulean eyes, an amber promise swirling along the edges of his sky-blue irises.
♣ ♣ ♣
"What is this?"
Still dazed and shocked, Isla stares with narrowed eyes at the couple slouching on the sofa. The lights are off, the only source of luminosity being the movie playing on the tv.
"Are you two now in love and living in a fairytale or something?" she continues when neither of them speaks.
"What do you want me to say, Isla?" Emilia's tone is so condescending, patronising, that Isla's hand tightens around the strap of her bag slung over her shoulder.
"Hey, no hard feelings here," Jack then says, taking his arm away from Emilia's shoulders. "I told her we could spend the night at my dorm if it would make you uncomfortable—"
"Shut it, Jack," Emilia snaps without tearing her eyes off the fuming brunette. She gestures between her body and the athlete's, "Is this what you had to see to understand Jack's not interested in you?"
"Wha—" Isla can't even find the right words to say. She shrugs it off by ignoring the ex-best friend, walking towards the front door of their dorm. Just as she holds the doorknob, she turns to Jack, finding his attention already on her. "Be careful. Emilia is a backstabbing bitch. It's only a matter of time until she throws you in the trash like she just did with our friendship."
♣ ♣ ♣
KILLIAN EDWARDS
Just came back from a run
Showering rn
Feel free to walk into the house
Doors open for you anytime
Isla locks her phone screen after reading Killian's text for the second time before ringing the doorbell—just because she can't fathom the thought of randomly walking inside someone else's mansion.
When no one shows up to answer the door, she sighs and pushes it open, only to find the house quiet.
"Hello?" She peers into the living room. Empty, no sports game playing on the tv nor is a video game.
When she walks into the kitchen, she finds Ezra sitting at the central island with his headphones on. He sees her walking in, though, and waves as she walks further into the room.
As he brings down the headset around his neck, Isla sighs and plops onto a stool across from him, reaching to the middle of the counter to grab a fry from Ezra's plate.
"Yeah, make yourself at home," he deadpans. "Eat my food, yeah, go ahead."
A deep frown settles in between her brows as she chews slowly. "Am I a bad friend?"
Ezra blinks then pushes his plate towards her, putting his elbows atop the countertop whilst lacing his fingers together. "I don't know you well enough to give the right judgment, but I don't think you are."
A small sigh flies past her nose. She dips a fry into ketchup, staring absentmindedly at the fruit basket placed in between them.
Isla can't lie and say the whole situation with Emilia isn't hurting her. Emilia was her friend—her best friend. She had shared so much with her, and in the blink of an eye, that friendship has gone to waste because of some football player? Gods, Isla feels stupid.
"Is everything okay?" Ezra asks softly.
She meets his brown eyes, filled with pure concern.
She lifts her shoulders in a half-shrug, offering him a tight-lipped smile in response.
"You're a great person," he tells her, snatching his plate back.
"You don't know me," she says promptly, narrowing her eyes.
"I know," he drones. "But you're helping Kills study, and Romeo always gushes about you. Plus, your siblings have only said great things about you, so I think that says a lot about the person you are."
She only replays the part where he tells her Romeo Quinn always talks about her. She blinks, a bizarre feeling stirring inside her chest.
"Thanks," she mumbles. "Is he here, by the way?"
She doesn't have to mention his name to make Ezra understand she is looking for his captain.
He glances towards the staircase, scratching the back of his head. "Uh," he starts, "yeah. Yeah he's upstairs. I just—I wouldn't go in his room right now."
Unfazed by his remark, she simply blinks. "Not that I was planning on paying him a visit but why?"
"He's, uh, he's—"
Laughter and footsteps echo in the foyer, and Isla spins on her stool to see who is coming. She stops breathing when Romeo comes into her field of vision, wearing nothing but a pair of joggers hanging lowly on his hips. His broad, muscular chest glints with beads of sweat, his strong hands buried in the pockets of his pants.
Whilst he is looking at whoever is following him, Isla can't help but linger her gaze over the hard ridges of his abdomen, on the contraction of his bicep when he lifts a hand up to tousle his already dishevelled hair, on the line of dark hair below his navel, leading towards—
And then a blonde appears in the frame, holding a jacket and purse in a hand. She uses the other one to touch Romeo's bicep as she stands on her tiptoes to brush a kiss along his flushed cheekbone.
This is the moment Romeo's gaze collides with Isla's. Surprise draws itself onto his face and he steps away from the blonde before whispering something in her ear and ushering her towards the front door.
Shit. So that's why Ezra told her to not go into his room. She probably would have found him in the middle of having sex with that gorgeous girl.
After what feels like eternity, Isla releases a small breath, her heart thumping inside her chest, her stomach churning with an uncanny sensation.
"Sorry," Ezra mumbles.
She looks at him and says nothing. Only sends a glance his way saying "there's nothing to be sorry for."
"Isla!" Killian's voice booms from upstairs. "Come up. I'm no longer naked—" He pauses and snorts. "Unless you want me to get naked for you, baby."
"You're disgusting!" she bellows, which earns a throaty laugh from Ezra.
Killian's chuckle reverberates. "I'm joking, Jesus Christ."
She picks her bag and aims for the staircase, ignoring Romeo as he shuts the front door, practically jogging towards her.
"Isla," he breathes. "Wait."
She frowns, taking one step at the time, unhurriedly so, whilst the heavy feeling inside her chest continues to spread. Gods, why is she even acting like this?
"Wait," he repeats, grabbing her elbow to stop her from moving forward.
He makes her spin around, now standing a step below her. Isla looks into his eyes, which continuously flicker between hers as though searching for some answers. Levelled eye-to-eye, his bated breath fans over her lips, his bare chest rising and falling as he doesn't let go of her arm.
Damn it, he is so beautiful.
"I—" he starts, a small line appearing in between his brows.
"You don't owe me an apology or any sort of explanation," she mutters quietly. "You're entitled to doing whatever pleases you with whoever you want."
"It's not like that," he whispers, his words somehow strangled in his throat. His pupils flare with an unspoken melancholy, begging for forgiveness.
"It's okay," she assures him, slowly retreating from his grip. Is it okay, though? To see the boy who's been taunting your daydreams with a girl who is your exact opposite? "I have to get going or else Killian will lose his patience."
"Angel," he murmurs, the crack in his timber evident.
"I'll see you later."
She hurries towards Killian's room, slamming the door shut once she is inside and leaning against it whilst exhaling heavily.
She puts a hand over her chest, not enjoying that heavy feeling still gripping onto her vital organ as if its purpose is to crush it until it shatters into unbounded pieces.
She doesn't pay attention to Killian's tattooed torso as he pulls a t-shirt over it. The sound of a door slamming echoes loudly in the corridor, making the dark-haired man raise his brows in puzzlement.
"I take it you saw his girl, then he tried to apologise," he notes, plopping down onto his bed.
"His girl?" She can't help but echo those two words in a breath.
He lifts a hand in surrender. "That's not his girl. Just some girl he hooked up with."
"Okay," she scoffs sardonically. "That makes me feel so much more better."
Killian leans over, elbows on his thighs as he runs his fingers through his damp black hair. "I thought you weren't interested in him."
"I'm not," she replies instantly. "I just—I don't know. He made me think he wanted to be different with me but I guess I was wrong."
"He's just confused," he says softly. "He's trying to distract himself."
"From what?"
"From you. You, invading his mind twenty-four-seven, showing him no interest in being his little puck bunny. You, being his rival's beloved sister. That's exactly what draws him to you, and I think it thrills him as much as it scares him."
Her chest rises with the long inhale of air she takes as she tips her head against the door. "Did he tell you this?"
"Nope. We've been best friends since we were six—I can read the guy like an open book."
She rubs the sleeve of her jumper with her thumb and forefinger, looking into Killian's eyes. "Should I stay away from him?"
A soft-hearted smile ghosts Killian's lips. It takes a few heartbeats before speaking, but the look in his dark eyes shows nothing but pure compassion and tenderness and sensitivity. "I don't think he would ever hurt you, but if you want to avoid being heartbroken, you might want to reconsider everything you want from him."
Even if she denies it, even if she tells him she doesn't want anything to do with Romeo Quinn, she does want something from him. With him.
Silence reigns. Isla nods, slowly so, before straightening herself. "Rain check? I don't feel like being in this house right now."
"Yeah, rain check," he grins. "You're all good. Do you want me to drive you home?"
She shakes her head. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Edwards."
He stands, offering her a gentle smile whilst tucking his hands in the front pockets of his basketball shorts. Just as she opens the door, he says, "Isla, whatever quarrel is going on between your parents and Romeo's, remember you're not your parents. You don't have to live like this—hidden, bound by hatred, living everyday with the what if eating you alive. If you want him, then so be it, and fuck everyone else."
It's only with a small smile and a lingering stare that she thanks him. She hurries down the stairs, her breath catching inside her throat and a deep voice rings in her ears. When a strong hand grips her forearm. When she is being whirled around until her front is pressed to his.
Once again, she faces a half-naked Romeo, his torso gleaming with droplets of water. Fresh out of the shower, he smells like sandalwood and pine and mint. A towel is hanging around the back of his neck, basketball shorts around his hips.
"I'm sorry," he tells her. "You weren't supposed to see this."
"Why, exactly, are you apologising to me, Romeo?" She glances to his hand wrapped around her arm. "You needed a good fuck, okay, so what? You don't owe me shit and vice versa. If I wanted to go in Ezra's room to ride his—"
"Don't you finish that sentence, Presley," he seethes, his minty breath fanning onto her nose. "Don't."
She nearly smiles in triumph when she realises he is utterly, unequivocally jealous.
"You want me, Romeo?" she asks, her tone patronising and her eyes blazing with a foreign emotion even herself couldn't place a word upon.
He doesn't respond. Only releases a small breath, his cerulean gaze darting down to her mouth. He doesn't have to say it out loud to let her know the answer—his eyes tell her everything she needs to know.
"I asked," she continues in a murmur, "do you want me?"
"Yes," he breathes. "Fuck, yes, of course I do, Isla. I shouldn't, but I do."
Stepping backwards, she ignores the heavy feeling pushing at her chest when distance stands in between her and the handsome athlete. "Then prove it. I don't want to be one of your one-night-stands that you get rid off when you're bored. You want some girl to play with to break her heart? Well, it's not going to be me."
"Okay," he utters without missing a beat. "I don't chase, angel. But you want to challenge me? Fine. I don't lose, either. Just want to make that clear with you."
Thing is, he has been chasing her ever since they met. Surely he doesn't realise it just yet, but Isla keeps on winning.
The very instant she opens the door, she faces Luca, finger ready to push on the doorbell. His gaze darts from Isla, her chest heaving and her face slightly crimson, to Romeo standing behind her, half-naked and eyes glinting.
__________
apologies for the slightly longer chapter but every bit in it is very important for the rest of the story <3