Chapter 3 The first official meeting
Amelia Hartley walked toward the student recreation wing like she had nowhere else to be.
Her steps were slow. She checked her phone, then slid it back into her pocket. Adjusted the strap of her bag. Stopped to retie her shoe even though it wasn’t untied.
Dr. Victor had fixed the meeting for three o’clock.
It was already three nineteen.
Good.
She smiled faintly to herself.
“Let him wait,” she thought. “Then he'd get bored and leave.”
She’d made a promise to herself on the walk over: she would not yell, she would not argue, she would not engage in whatever brand of arrogance Nathan Miller specialized in. She would sit down, state the facts, and convince him calmly and rationally to request a different journalist.
Simple.
The venue was one of Fairview’s semi-private lounges, with glass walls and low couches, usually reserved for club meetings or athlete briefings.
When Amelia reached the entrance, she slowed down, peering through the glass.
When she spotted a familiar face, she stopped.
Nathan Miller was still there.
He sat sprawled on one of the couches like he owned the space, elbows braced on his knees, he had swapped his ruined jersey for a fitted black T-shirt that clung unapologetically to his shoulders.
He was laughing at something one of the girls standing near him had said, head tipped back slightly, all ease and charm.
Three girls hovered around him.
One leaned in too close. Another flipped her hair. A third held her phone like she was debating a selfie.
Nathan smiled at all of them. He looked relaxed, like he was patiently waiting for a date or someone important.
Amelia stared, then let out a quiet laugh under her breath. “Well,” she murmured, “I’ll try the next plan.”
She pushed the door open and walked in. She smiled at the other occupants of the recreation center.
Nathan looked up instantly.
His smile shifted slowly and locked onto her like she was the only thing in the room.
The girls noticed. One of them glanced over her shoulder, then back at Nathan, confused.
Nathan stood up. “Hey,” he said, voice easy. “You finally made it.”
Amelia didn’t respond. She crossed the room and dropped into the chair opposite him, setting her bag at her feet, and crossing her legs.
Nathan’s eyes followed every movement.
The girls lingered for a moment longer, clearly waiting for an introduction that never came. Finally, one of them scoffed under her breath and tugged the others away.
Nathan watched them go, amused, and then turned back to her.
He smiled wider. “So,” he said, “first you tried to get my attention.”
Amelia didn’t blink.
“Then,” he continued, “you ruined my limited jersey.”
She folded her hands in her lap.
“And now,” he said, licking his lips slowly, “you’re here as someone I’ll be working with for the next couple of days or weeks.”
He leaned back, spreading his arms along the couch. “Do you really want me that badly?” he asked lightly. “Cause I see you’re trying so hard, baby.”
Amelia inhaled and exhaled. She didn’t rise to it. Instead, she leaned forward, cleared her throat once, and spoke evenly.
“You don’t like me,” she said. “And I don’t like you.”
Nathan blinked.
That clearly was not the reaction he expected.
“I think,” Amelia went on, “it’s best if you meet my lecturer and request someone else. It’ll save us both from this.” She gestured vaguely between them. “This chaos and disaster.”
Nathan studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled again. He looked more relaxed and handsome.
“Amelia Hartley,” he said.
Her head snapped up. “What?” She hadn't told him her name after the incident. She tried to hide the surprise on her face.
“Honor student,” he added. “Top of your class.”
Amelia stared at him. “How did you know my name?”
“I know.”
Her lips pressed together. “I see you did a little homework.”
He shrugged. “I saw the notice board right after you threw yourself at me.”
She twisted her face in disgust. “That is not what happened.”
“Sure it is,” he said. “You just did it with less intention than most, but it worked, you got my attention.”
Nathan stood up.
The movement drew her attention. He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne, something subtle, not overpowering. He reached out and gently caught a loose strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek.
Amelia stiffened.
He tucked it back slowly. Then, with one finger, he tilted her chin up.
“I like girls with glasses,” he said quietly. “And I like them when they’re feisty.”
Amelia turned her face away sharply.
His hand fell. He laughed. “Relax. You’re the first girl I’m touching like this today.”
She stood abruptly, and the chair fell.
“This,” she said, voice tight, “is a big disaster.”
Nathan raised his brows. “Already?”
“We can’t work together.”
He chuckled. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because,” he said, stepping back just enough to give her space, “I’m pretty sure you’d be the best thing to happen to my life this semester.”
She stared at him like he’d just spoken another language.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I get that a lot.”
She grabbed her bag and turned toward the door.
“Amelia,” Nathan called after her.
She didn’t stop.
“Amelia baby.”
She flinched but kept walking.
“See you around,” he added cheerfully. “We’re stuck together, remember?”
The door shut behind her.
Amelia didn’t slow until she was halfway down the hallway. “Is he insane?” she muttered. “Is this some kind of revenge?”
She pictured the coffee soaking into his jersey. His grin. The way he’d said her name.
“Is he trying to get back at me for spilling coffee on him?”
She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “I knew this would be a disaster.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Mira.
Amelia ignored it and kept walking.
She knew behind her, Nathan Miller was probably still smiling. And she hated that the thought made her heart beat just a little faster.
