Damian

I hated him the moment I saw him. Damian, twenty-one, six-foot-one, broad-shouldered, with perfect hair, a smirk, and hazel eyes that dared you to challenge him. Confident, cocky, reckless, he claimed half the room like he owned it. And then there was me. Y/N, nineteen, five-foot-six, sharp-eyed, stubborn, organized, and careful to avoid trouble, which obviously included Damian. It didn’t take long to notice he was jealous. Every laugh, every conversation with someone else made him glare or tense. Still, despite the irritation, I could not ignore the pull that kept me near him. Damian was impossible, infuriating, addictive, and I hated that I hated him