My Match | ??

Victoria stared at Chase, her annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. 

Of course, he wouldn't just put out the cigarette like a normal person. No, Chase Black had to turn everything into a game, had to smirk like he was daring her to do something about it. 

And the worst part? She *wanted* to. 

Not because she cared about him smoking—she didn't. If Chase Black wanted to ruin his lungs, that was his problem. But something about him, about the way he was looking at her, made her want to wipe that smirk right off his stupidly perfect face. 

So she took a step forward. Then another. Until she was standing right in front of him. 

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you actually going to—" 

Victoria snatched the cigarette from his fingers, tossed it to the ground, and crushed it beneath the toe of her ballet flat. 

Silence. 

Then, Chase let out a low chuckle. "Damn. I think I might be in love." 

She rolled her eyes. "Spare me." 

Chase didn't move, just watched her, his gaze sharper now, more calculating. "You're tense," he murmured. 

Victoria stiffened. "Excuse me?" 

"You come here to get away, huh? Let me guess. You had a long day of being *perfect* for everyone, and now you need a minute to breathe." 

Her jaw clenched. "You don't know anything about me." 

Chase smirked, but there was something different about it now. Less amused. More knowing. 

"You're right," he said, leaning back on his elbows. "I don't. But I know a performance when I see one." 

Victoria's stomach twisted. 

Because he wasn't wrong. 

But she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of admitting that. 

Instead, she lifted her chin. "Says the guy who plays bad boy like it's a full-time job." 

Chase grinned. "Touché." 

A beat of silence stretched between them. The water lapped gently against the dock, the night air cool against her skin. 

Victoria exhaled slowly. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be talking to him. Chase Black was the last person she needed in her life. He was reckless and arrogant and *messy*. 

And she didn't do messy. 

So she took a step back. "Enjoy your brooding, Black." 

Then, without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away. 

But even as she left, she could feel his gaze lingering on her. 

— 

Chase watched Victoria disappear into the night, something unsettling curling in his chest. 

She was right about one thing. 

He *did* play bad boy like it was a full-time job. 

Because it was easier that way. 

Easier to be the guy who didn't care. The guy who broke hearts before they could break his. The guy who laughed off every detention, every fight, every whispered rumor. 

It was easier than being the guy who carried the weight of his sister's death on his shoulders every damn day. 

But Victoria Madison? She was something else. 

She wasn't supposed to be like him. She was supposed to be the golden girl, the untouchable princess. Yet, for a moment back there—just a moment—he had seen something behind her icy blue eyes. 

Something raw. 

Something familiar. 

And Chase Black *lived* for breaking things. 

But for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure he wanted to break her.