Page 20

CHAPTER 20

Raven

I don’t hear a single word my professor says.

I sit in class, notebook open, pen in my hand, but nothing sticks. The words on the board blur together, my notes are scattered nonsense, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been staring at the same damn page for the last ten minutes.

Because my mind is elsewhere. Because in just a few hours, I’m moving in with Malakai fucking Vega.

I squeeze my pen, pressing my lips together. This is not how I imagined this year going.

A week ago, I had a boyfriend, a place to live, and a life that, sure, wasn’t perfect, but at least it was mine . Now? I’m trapped in a deal with a guy who gets off on ruining people, pretending to be his girlfriend for reasons he won’t even fucking explain, and giving up my freedom in the process.

It’s suffocating. It’s terrifying. And yet…

I exhale slowly, my fingers twitching against my notebook. A small part of me—a tiny, stupid, reckless part—is also curious. Because Malakai doesn’t do anything without a reason. And if I’m going to survive this, I need to figure out why.

Why me ? Why this whole charade?

And most of all—why the hell does he hate Alex so much?

The class ends before I realize it, my professor dismissing us as the sound of chairs scraping fills the room.

I snap out of my haze, forcing myself to move, shoving my books into my bag and pushing away the dread pooling in my stomach.

I just have to get through this.

One fucking day at a time.

I spot Erica and Lena outside the lecture hall, chatting animatedly about some party happening this weekend.

The second they see me, Lena waves me over.

"You’re alive," she teases as I catch up, adjusting my bag over my shoulder.

"Barely," I mutter.

Erica raises a brow. "Still no word from Alex?"

My chest tightens, but I shake my head.

"Nope."

Lena scoffs. "That’s such bullshit. He ghosted you for a week, then drops in to break up with you and screw you over? He’s a walking red flag."

I want to defend him.

I want to say that Alex isn’t like that, that he was hurt and lashing out, that this isn’t really him.

But the truth is… I don’t know if that’s true anymore.

Erica eyes me carefully. "You okay?"

I nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah. I mean, what else can I do? I have to move on, right?"

Lena slings an arm over my shoulder dramatically. "That’s the spirit. And the first step to moving on is distracting yourself. Which is why you should come to the party with us this weekend."

I laugh lightly, shaking my head. "I don’t think that’s a good idea."

"Oh, come on." She nudges me. "You can’t spend your whole weekend sulking."

I wish sulking was an option.

Instead, I’ll be moving into Malakai Vega’s fucking apartment.

I chew my lip, glancing between them, wanting—so badly—to tell them. To say something.

But I don’t know if I can trust them yet.

This whole thing is a mess, and if word gets out before I have a handle on it… I don’t even know what the fallout would look like.

So I lie.

"I’ll think about it," I say, plastering on the best fake smile I can manage.

Lena grins. "Good. That’s progress."

We keep walking toward my dorm, the last few minutes of normalcy I’ll probably have for a while.

But then?—

The moment we arrive near the entrance of the building, I freeze.

Because standing right outside, leaning against a hulk of a truck, arms crossed and a goddamn smirk on his face?—

Is Malakai.

Waiting for me.

"Well, well," he drawls, standing straight as we approach. "Took you long enough, Lamb."

Erica and Lena both look between us, confusion written all over their faces.

Lena raises an eyebrow. "Uh… what’s happening right now?"

I swallow hard.

Malakai grins.

"Ready to go, babe?" he says, and I want to die.

Erica and Lena don’t say anything.

But they’re thinking it.

I can feel it in the way they both flick their gazes between me and Malakai, their curiosity practically humming in the air.

Lena’s eyebrows shoot up so high, I’m surprised they don’t disappear into her hairline. Erica, to her credit, schools her expression fast, but I still catch the slight widening of her eyes before she recovers.

Yeah. This is not normal.

I don’t say a word, and neither do they. But when Erica meets my eyes, there’s an understanding there. A silent Are you okay?

And I nod. Just once. Because I don’t know how to explain this. And even if I did, I don’t know if I’d want to.

"Well," Lena finally says, dragging out the word, eyeing Malakai like she’s trying to figure out if she should be impressed or concerned. " This is new."

I force a casual shrug, acting like this is no big deal, like Malakai isn’t standing right fucking there , watching me with that infuriatingly smug smirk.

"Yeah, something like that," I mumble.

Lena doesn’t look convinced, but miraculously, she lets it go.

Erica shoots me one last glance—one last chance to explain—but when I don’t, she just nods and links arms with Lena.

"Text us later," she says, her voice neutral, but I can tell she’s already dying to ask questions.

"Yeah," I say, even though I have no idea when I’ll have time for anything beyond surviving this mess I’ve walked into.

With one last look, my friends walk off, leaving me alone with Malakai.

The second they’re out of earshot, he chuckles.

"That was cute."

I glare at him. " Shut up. "

It’s only now that I finally look at his truck— really look at it—because earlier, I was too caught up with its owner.

And I immediately regret giving that beast a good look.

Because of course Malakai Vega drives something completely unhinged.

The truck parked in front of my dorm isn’t just big—it’s a beast . Matte black, lifted, rugged as hell. The kind of thing that swallows the road instead of just driving on it.

It looks like something that belongs in a heist movie, like it’s built for smuggling contraband across borders rather than moving my pathetic pile of belongings.

It’s so aggressively Malakai that I don’t even know what to say.

"You drive that? " I finally manage.

He leans against it, arms crossed, smirking like the asshole he is.

"Yeah. You impressed?"

I snort, shaking my head. "No. I’m actually concerned for the road safety of everyone on campus."

He grins, looking way too pleased with himself. "Relax, Lamb. I’m an excellent driver."

"Sure you are."

He gestures to my dorm. "You gonna stand there all day, or are we moving your shit?"

I roll my eyes and march toward my building.

I’m determined to do this my way.

This is still my stuff, my life, and I’m not about to let Malakai treat this like some grand fucking favor where he gets to control every part of it.

I grab the first box—a small one, just to start—when suddenly it’s gone.

I blink, my hands now empty, and look up to see Malakai holding it with zero effort, watching me like I’m an idiot.

"What the hell?" I snap, reaching for it.

He lifts it just out of reach.

"Malakai."

He smirks. "You think I’m letting you carry all this yourself?"

" Yes ," I say immediately, trying to snatch it back, but he steps away, walking out of the room.

And I swear to God, the way my blood fucking boils?—

"I don’t need your help," I grind out, a little out of breath for following him.

"Too bad." He effortlessly descends the stairs, and I feel like an idiot.

When we're back to collect the next box, I snatch it first.

He arches a brow, amused. "You’re really gonna fight me on this?"

"Yes."

His eyes glint, like he finds this hilarious.

"Look, Lamb," he drawls, leaning in slightly. "I know you’re all independent and fierce and whatever, but I’m still not letting you carry shit while I stand here watching."

I scowl. "I can handle myself."

He tilts his head, considering. "You can . But now? You don’t have to."

That shuts me up.

Because… what the fuck am I supposed to say to that?

He takes the next box from my hands, ignoring my glare, and lifts it like it weighs nothing.

I fold my arms, fuming. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re stubborn." He grins. "We’re gonna have fun living together."

I huff, grabbing a bag instead of a box because apparently, I’m not allowed to lift anything heavier than my pride.

Malakai carries the rest, making zero effort to hide how much he’s enjoying my frustration.

But the worst part? I don’t hate it.

I should. I should be seething, should be fighting him every step of the way.

But some twisted part of me—a part I don’t want to fucking acknowledge—kind of…

Likes it.

I like that he just does it without making it a big deal. Like it’s not about proving anything, not about taking something from me, but just… taking care of it.

And that? That unnerves me more than anything else.

By the time we get the last of my things into the truck, I’m exhausted.

Malakai dusts off his hands, grinning down at me, and for some reason, I feel… strange . Like something shifted between us. Like we’re not just enemies locked in some fucked-up arrangement—like there’s something else, something dangerous pulling me toward him.

I shove that thought down, hard.

"Is that it?" he asks, voice mockingly sweet.

I sigh heavily, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Yeah. That’s everything."

"Good." He gestures to the truck. "Get in, Lamb."

I should argue.

Should tell him to stop calling me that, should remind him that this is temporary, that I’m not his to boss around.

But I don’t.

Instead, I open the passenger door and climb in, heart pounding, mind racing.

Because I can feel it now.

This thing between us.

It’s changing.

And I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next.