Chapter 1: Chasing the Untouchable Prince

Somehow, before I even realized what was happening, I managed to snag the most untouchable guy at Maple Heights University—the one everyone on campus whispered about, the so-called ice prince up on the hill. Even now, it feels surreal, like I accidentally wandered into someone else's story.

Looking back, it still doesn’t feel real. Maple Heights has its fair share of campus legends, but Carter Hayes? He was the kind of guy people whispered about in the library and pointed at across the quad, all cool detachment and sharp edges—like a statue you’d see in a museum, too perfect and cold to touch. Even professors seemed to tread lightly around him, as if he were a wild animal at the zoo—fascinating, but you wouldn’t dare get too close.

And not just any prince, either, but the absolute king of cool—untouchable, aloof, almost like some campus myth come to life.

Seriously, he was the kind of guy who could chill a room just by walking in. Girls would pretend not to look, but everyone did. Guys respected him, but no one actually knew him. He moved through campus as if he was above it all, untouchable, like some character who’d stepped right out of a graphic novel. Sometimes I’d catch myself thinking, is he even real?

He was addictive, honestly. There was something about the way his hair fell over his forehead, the way he’d absentmindedly run his fingers through it when he was lost in thought. Every time we crossed paths, I found myself wanting to get closer, to reach out and touch him. It was like gravity, pulling me in, whether I wanted it or not.

I’d catch myself staring at the way his hair caught the sunlight, or how he’d push it back when he was annoyed. Sometimes, when we walked together in the late afternoon, I’d drift closer, like I couldn’t help myself. Just brushing his sleeve gave me a rush, like I was sneaking a taste of something I wasn’t supposed to have. God, I was a mess.

But he’d always coolly press my hand down. “Could you try a little self-control?”

He’d say it with this half-smile, not mean, but definitely a reminder—gentle, but firm. There were boundaries, and he wasn’t about to let me forget it. Sometimes he’d squeeze my hand, and I couldn’t tell if he was reassuring me or warning me. Either way, I always listened. I couldn’t help it.

We dated for months. And honestly? Forget seeing his abs—I hadn’t even gotten close enough to poke his stomach.

I mean, months. My friends joked that I was dating a Disney prince—look, don’t touch. If my hand wandered, he’d give me that look and I’d freeze, mortified. Sometimes I wondered if I was just imagining the chemistry between us, or if it was all in my head.

After a while, I started to get frustrated. Was I just spinning my wheels here? Was this even going anywhere? Finally, I blurted out that maybe we should just break up.

I said it quietly, almost hoping he’d fight for me, but half-expecting him to just shrug and walk away. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, not sure if I’d fall or if he’d catch me.

That’s when the so-called untouchable prince finally cracked.

He stared at me for a long moment, jaw tight, and for the first time I saw his eyes flash—just for a second—with something real, something raw. It was like the mask slipped, and suddenly I was looking at the real Carter, not the legend.

“It’s not about taking things for granted—you haven’t even got me yet.”

His voice was low, almost vulnerable, and it stopped me cold. For the first time, it hit me—maybe I wasn’t the only one having a hard time with the way things were between us.

“Ha. I knew it—you only like me for my looks.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to cover how flustered I was, but he just raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. He always knew exactly how to read me.

“…Fine. Just for my looks—come back.”

He tossed it out so casually, but there was a softness in his eyes, like he was letting me in on an inside joke. I couldn’t help but laugh, even as my heart pounded. Maybe neither of us was ready to let go just yet.

The youngest in our dorm had just started dating, and as tradition demanded, she had to treat everyone in the dorm—and their significant others—to dinner.

This was a big deal at Maple Heights. Whenever someone in our dorm got a new boyfriend, it was basically an initiation—everyone would pile into a booth at the local pizza place or burger joint, razzing the new couple, throwing out questions, and generally making a mess of things. It was loud, chaotic, and a little bit wild. But honestly, these traditions were what made campus feel like home to me.

I texted Carter Hayes.

I sat there, staring at my phone, thumbs hovering. Even after all this time, texting him still gave me butterflies, like I was a freshman again. I typed out the invite, deleted it, retyped it, then finally just hit send and tossed my phone on the bed, hoping he’d say yes.

After what felt like forever, he finally called me back.

My heart skipped a beat when his name flashed on the screen. I let it ring twice—didn’t want to seem too eager—then picked up, trying to sound casual, like I hadn’t just been staring at my phone for twenty minutes.

“Weekend’s fine—I was just playing ball.”

His voice came through, a little ragged from exertion, deep and magnetic in a way that made my ears tingle. I could practically feel the electricity in my bones. My heart felt like it was full of pink bubbles, and I had to bite my lip to keep from giggling.

I pictured him, hair damp with sweat, probably leaning against the gym wall with that lazy, careless posture of his. Just hearing his voice made my cheeks flush. I had to bite my lip, grinning like an idiot.

I was about to say I’d come find him, but before I could, he said, all casual, “But I’ve got one condition—don’t get all handsy with me.”

I froze, my face instantly burning red.

I could practically hear the teasing in his tone. My mind flashed back to every time I’d tried to hold his hand or sneak a hug. If blushing were an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist.

“What? I just want to hold hands.”

I tried to sound innocent, but my voice came out way too high. My fingers twisted in the hem of my shirt, nerves making me fidgety.

“Babe, be honest. Is it really just holding hands?”

He stretched out the word, and I could picture that sly half-grin, the kind that always made one eyebrow arch just so. He always knew exactly how to get under my skin, like he’d memorized the playbook for teasing me.

“From my fingers to my arm—if I didn’t stop you, who knows where those hands would wander.”

He laid it on thick, his voice full of mock scandal.

I was mortified, totally speechless.

All I could do was sputter, my mind wiped blank. He always flipped the script so fast, I never saw it coming. I pressed the phone closer, half wishing I could just disappear.

Carter was my addiction, honestly. He pulled me in with a force I couldn’t explain.

It was almost unfair how much he got under my skin. I’d never been this hooked on anyone before. He was my personal brand of trouble, and I was helpless against it.

Before I met him, I was a total goody-two-shoes—always followed the rules. After I met him, I turned into a clingy mess.

I used to be the girl with color-coded binders and a perfect GPA. Suddenly, I was the one texting first, counting down hours until our next date, inventing excuses to bump into him between classes. My friends teased me mercilessly, but I couldn’t help it. He brought out a side of me I didn’t know existed.

There was just something about him. The way he’d glance at me, the way his laugh would catch me off guard, or how his scent would linger on my jacket. Sometimes, just hearing his voice or catching a whiff of his cologne in the hallway would make my heart leap. I’d find myself smiling for no reason, feeling ridiculous and loving every second of it.

It was like every time we met, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to touch him, to lean in, to just be near him. The pull between us was magnetic, and sometimes I wondered if he felt it too, or if I was just imagining everything.

But honestly—who would’ve thought a guy who looked like he’d been around the block would be so proper and reserved?

You’d think a guy with his looks and reputation would be a total player, but Carter was the opposite. He was all sharp lines and cool distance, never rushing anything, always keeping things on his terms. It was like there was a line I couldn’t see, and he never let me cross it.

Every time, he’d flash that cool, cocky, heartbreaker grin and stop me in my tracks, never letting things get out of hand. It was infuriating—and weirdly thrilling, too.

“We just started dating. Take it slow, don’t rush.”

He’d say it in that calm, unhurried way, like he had all the time in the world. Sometimes I wondered if he was secretly a hundred years old trapped in a college guy’s body.

“I’m not into PDA.”

He’d look around, make sure no one was watching, then squeeze my hand under the table. It was sweet, but sometimes I wanted to scream.

“Keep those little paws in check, okay?”

He’d tap my fingers, smirking, and I’d huff, pretending to be offended. But honestly, I kind of liked it. Every touch felt like a secret, something special just for us.

I felt like I was playing the desperate rebel, chasing after the campus gentleman.

It was like I’d been cast as the bad girl in some rom-com, always making the first move while he played the straight-laced hero. My friends teased me, calling me the one always on the hunt, and I’d laugh, but sometimes I wondered if maybe they weren’t entirely wrong.

Embarrassed, frustrated—help!

After every date, I’d flop onto my bed, groaning into my pillow, torn between wanting more and not wanting to scare him off. It was equal parts exhilarating and maddening.

How did I end up like this, anyway?

I used to roll my eyes at girls who lost their cool over a guy. Now, here I was, living proof that karma’s got a wicked sense of humor. Guess I had it coming.

Looking back, I realize now—this was what people meant by chemistry. That wild, impossible-to-fight pull, the kind of attraction that hits you before your brain can catch up. It wasn’t something I could control, no matter how hard I tried.

But I didn’t want to scare off the rare ice prince I’d finally caught. So I did my best to keep my wild side under wraps and played the sweet, good-girl part.

I’d bite my tongue, keep my hands to myself, and smile politely even when my heart was racing. I figured if I played it cool long enough, maybe he’d let his guard down. Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

That night, I kept it together all through dinner. Sat up straight, laughed at the right moments, and tried to act like I wasn’t more nervous than the new couple. Carter kept shooting me these curious looks, like he was trying to figure out what was up.

I sat there, hands folded in my lap, laughing when I was supposed to, pretending not to notice the way Carter’s knee brushed mine under the table. Every time he glanced my way, I forced a smile, determined not to let anything slip. But I could feel his eyes on me, searching, trying to figure out what had changed.

After dinner, we all went to a movie. Our dorm leader picked a thriller romance—classic. The theater was packed with couples, girls squealing and guys putting their arms around them, which usually led to some blushing and steamy kissing. I felt like I was in the middle of a rom-com marathon.

The theater was buzzing, everyone pressed together, sharing popcorn and secrets. Couples were everywhere—snuggled up, giggling, some making out two rows ahead of us. I tried to keep my eyes on the screen, but the tension in the air was thicker than the smell of buttered popcorn.

Meanwhile, I sat stiff as a board, staring straight ahead, determined not to look anywhere else.

I crossed my arms, trying to play it cool, but I probably looked like I was bracing for a tornado. My heart thudded in my chest, and every time Carter shifted beside me, I jumped.

It wasn’t that I was brave—I was dizzy. The air was thick with Carter’s scent, and I couldn’t focus on the movie at all.

His cologne—fresh, like cut grass and cedar—seeped into my senses, making it impossible to concentrate. The couple on screen could’ve been fighting zombies or reciting Shakespeare or both; honestly, I wouldn’t have noticed. All I could think about was Carter’s arm, resting on the armrest, just inches from mine. My whole body was on high alert.

“Enjoying it?” Carter leaned over, voice low, so only I could hear. His breath brushed my ear and I shivered.

“Yeah.”

I nodded, then realized the screen was showing a steamy scene.

I caught what was happening and nearly choked on my soda. My cheeks burned and I wished the seat would just swallow me whole.

“Knew you’d like this sort of thing.”

He murmured it, all teasing, and I could hear the laughter in his voice. I shot him a glare, but he just smirked, totally unbothered.

Blood rushed to my face. I couldn’t take it—I stood up and made a run for the bathroom.

I practically bolted, almost tripping in the dark. In the safety of the restroom, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to cool down. My reflection stared back, wide-eyed and flustered. I barely recognized myself.

When I got back, the movie was at a tense, suspenseful part. The theater was dark, scary sound effects echoing all around. I used my phone as a flashlight to find my seat, feeling like I was tiptoeing through a haunted house.

I crept down the aisle, phone in hand, squinting at the row numbers. The soundtrack was all ominous music and sudden crashes, making my nerves jangle. I could feel eyes on me and ducked my head, praying I wouldn’t trip.

Suddenly, a piercing scream exploded from the screen. I jumped, tripped, and fell right into Carter.

I let out a startled yelp, landing half in his lap. The whole row turned to stare and I wanted to disappear. Carter caught me, his grip firm and reassuring.

He let out a muffled grunt, grabbed my wrist, and hissed between his teeth.

“Can’t let my guard down for even a second… Are you trying to kill me with that sneak attack?”

He whispered it, trying to sound annoyed, but I could see the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. I blushed, mumbling an apology, wishing the seat would just swallow me.

I panicked, stammering an explanation.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

I tried to pull my hand back, but he held on even tighter, his fingers warm and steady. He gave me this look—half fond, half exasperated—like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to scold me or laugh.

He sighed, brushed the hair from my temple. “Scared?”

His touch was gentle, and for a moment, everyone else faded away. I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.

I blinked, finally realizing he meant the movie. I nodded quickly, letting out a tiny, kitten-like whimper.

“…Yeah, it’s so scary.”

I tried to sound convincing, but my voice came out small. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He covered my eyes and gave a half-laugh, half-scold.

“Don’t look at me with those hungry eyes. Maybe then I’d believe you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. I stuck out my tongue at him, but he just grinned, pulling me closer.

Then, with one arm, he pulled me onto the seat and, for once, opened his arms wide and hugged me close.

I froze, surprised, then melted into him, heart pounding. His arms around me felt like coming home. I buried my face in his chest, determined to memorize every detail of the moment.

“Happy now? Behave and watch the movie.”

He was blaming me… but he was hugging me!

I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I nodded, snuggling closer, not caring what anyone else thought. For once, he was the one breaking his own rules.

Shyly, I pressed my face to his chest, greedily breathing in his scent—like sunlit grass, fresh and wild, making everything else fade away. I felt dizzy with happiness.

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the feeling. His heartbeat thudded steadily under my ear, grounding me. I wished the movie would never end.

My gaze drifted up. In the dim light, his face looked like it belonged in a comic book—strong brows, cool eyes, a straight nose, lips pressed into a thin line—red and distracting.

I watched him, mesmerized, tracing the lines of his face with my eyes. He looked down at me, a question in his gaze, and I felt my resolve crumble.

I couldn’t help leaning in… closer…

My breath caught as I closed the distance, heart hammering. I was so close I could see the tiny scar on his chin, the faint flush on his cheeks. I hesitated, waiting for him to stop me.

“What are you doing?”

His hand blocked my face just in time.

He caught me, palm gentle but firm, pushing me back just enough to break the spell. I pouted, but he just rolled his eyes.

“…There’s a mosquito by your mouth.”

I looked at him with my most innocent eyes, telling the most ridiculous lie.

I widened my eyes, trying to look as sweet and harmless as possible. "Oh, really? Guess you’ll have to save me, then."

“So you were going to get rid of it with your mouth?”

Carter let out an exasperated laugh, then pushed me back into my seat.

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "You’re trouble, you know that?"

“Seriously, I can’t give you an inch. No fooling around in public, okay?”

He gave me a look that was half stern, half amused. I huffed, crossing my arms, but inside I was secretly delighted that he cared enough to set boundaries.

I turned away, huffing.

“Fine, I won’t. Stingy.”

I was joking, but deep down, I felt a wave of embarrassment—and a little disappointment.

I glanced sideways at him, hoping he’d change his mind, but he just smirked, eyes twinkling. I slouched in my seat, trying to act cool, but my cheeks were still burning.

After the movie, everyone still wanted more, so we headed to a bar for Truth or Dare. A few drinks in, the questions got more and more daring.

The bar was packed, neon lights flickering on the walls. We claimed a corner booth, pitchers of beer and baskets of fries piling up. The music was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the laughter and shouting as the dares got bolder.

When the bottle pointed at the youngest’s boyfriend, things really took off.

Everyone leaned in, eyes shining with mischief. The poor guy looked like a deer in headlights, glancing at his girlfriend for help.

“So, what stage are you two at now?”

The athlete’s handsome face turned so red it was almost purple.

He sputtered, glancing everywhere but at us. The youngest just grinned, squeezing his hand under the table.

The dorm leader blurted out, “No way!”

She slapped the table, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink. "You two work fast!"

This was the youngest’s third boyfriend. She just smiled shyly, lips pressed together. The athlete tried to take a drink, but she stopped him.

She gave him a look that said, "Don’t even think about it," and he froze, hand halfway to his glass. The rest of us howled with laughter.

“No more drinking. They already know the answer.”

She winked, and the whole table erupted. I felt my jaw drop. Was everyone moving this fast?

I was so shocked my eyes nearly popped out.

“…Didn’t you guys just start dating?”

I blurted it out before I could stop myself. The youngest just smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction.

The youngest winked at me. “Savannah, you just gave yourself away.”

I froze, wishing I could take back what I’d just said.

I ducked my head, cheeks flaming. Everyone turned to look at me, and I tried to hide behind my beer.

These girls had been eyeing Carter for ages. He was infamous—cool, aloof, the kind of guy who looked like he’d break your heart with a smile. Rumors about him never stopped, but no one ever really knew the truth. I was the only girlfriend he’d ever made things official with. Naturally, everyone was dying to know what was going on between us.

Whenever Carter and I walked into a party together, heads would turn. People whispered, trying to figure out what made me different. I could feel the curiosity, the envy, and sometimes the disbelief. It was like being under a microscope.

So, when the next round landed on me, the same question came flying my way.

“What stage are you two at?”

All eyes were on me. I felt my throat tighten, the words sticking. I fiddled with my napkin, trying to buy time.

I was mortified, staying silent as I reached for my drink, but the youngest blocked me.

She shot me a look, daring me to answer. I swallowed, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

Her eyes were sly, darting between the two of us.

“No way, you’re still stuck on first base?”

She grinned, nudging my arm. I could hear the disbelief in her voice, and I wanted to disappear.

“Savannah, I know you’re shy, but you can’t keep stringing Carter along. He’s a hot commodity—if you wait too long, someone else might snatch him up.”

She teased me shamelessly, tipsy from the alcohol.

The others chimed in, laughing and egging her on. I forced a smile, wishing I could vanish.

I forced a smile, swallowing my frustration. I pushed her hand away, about to down my drink in one go, when a long-fingered hand reached over and took my glass.

Carter’s hand was warm, steady. He gave me a look that said, "I’ve got you." I let out a silent sigh of relief, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease just a little.

Carter ruffled my hair, smiling.

“I think Savannah is perfect the way she is. I really like her.”

His voice was calm, confident. He looked around the table, daring anyone to challenge him. For a moment, the teasing stopped, and I felt a little less exposed.

Then he finished my drink for me.

He tipped the glass back, downing it in one smooth motion. I watched, heart pounding, as he set it down with a soft clink.

Everyone started cheering, saying Carter spoiled me too much. I could only force another smile, swallowing my words.

The whole table erupted, clapping and whistling. Someone shouted, "Whipped!" and Carter just shrugged, totally unfazed. I buried my face in my hands, peeking through my fingers, half mortified, half secretly thrilled that he’d stood up for me.

Soon, the beer bottle spun again and landed on Carter.

The dorm leader grinned. “Carter, kiss your girlfriend.”

She waggled her eyebrows, and everyone leaned in, hungry for drama. I felt my stomach drop.

The room exploded.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

“French kiss!”

“I want to record this! Who said our class can’t pull off a real romance? Carter’s been dating for ages and no one’s caught him kissing yet!”

Phones came out, cameras ready. I shrank back, mortified, but Carter just lounged there, cool as ever.

Someone tried to help me out.

“He’s had enough to drink, hasn’t he? Didn’t you say he’s not feeling well? Just let it go.”

A couple of friends tried to deflect, but the crowd wasn’t having it. The chants only got louder.

“Come on, Savannah, let us get a little sweetness. We’re starving here!”

“Here, let the youngest show you how it’s done.”

The youngest pulled her boyfriend in for a long, passionate kiss. My heart nearly stopped.

The whole table whooped and hollered. I stared, wide-eyed, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I glanced at Carter, hoping for rescue.

The heat was contagious—I blushed hard, looking helplessly at Carter.

He lounged in the booth, long legs stretched out, a lollipop hanging from his lips, watching my dormmates with a lazy, half-lidded gaze like he was the only calm one in a room full of chaos. It was like he was at a zoo, watching the animals go wild, and I was caught right in the middle of it.

The dorm leader stepped in, calling everyone to order.

“Put your phones away. No French kiss, just a normal one.”

She waved her hands, trying to restore some order. I shot her a grateful look.

Carter didn’t move.

He just raised an eyebrow, waiting. The silence stretched, everyone holding their breath.

“Uh, a quick peck is fine too, right?”

Still nothing.

He stared at me, unreadable. I felt my hands start to shake.

Everyone’s eyes turned to me. My face burned. I glanced at Carter, then at everyone else, my smile on the verge of collapse.

I could feel the pressure building, everyone waiting for something to happen. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself.

“Um, is it okay if I just kiss his cheek?” I asked quietly.

My voice barely carried over the music, but everyone heard. The tension eased a little, and a few people nodded in understanding.

They seemed to get the hint and didn’t push further.

Someone muttered, "Let them be," and the crowd quieted, curiosity still simmering.

Carter looked at me in silence.

His eyes searched mine, something unreadable flickering there. I held my breath, praying he’d go along with it.

I gave him my best pleading puppy eyes—please, just go along with it, do me a favor.

I tried to look as pitiful as possible, hoping he’d take pity on me. He frowned, and for a second I thought he might refuse.

He frowned a little, finally taking the lollipop out of his mouth. He leaned forward, close to my face. That scent—fresh-cut grass and sunlight—hit me all at once, like I’d stepped into a summer field. My heart hammered so hard I thought everyone at the table could hear it.

I shut my eyes, trembling.

I braced myself, waiting for the inevitable embarrassment. The room was silent, everyone watching.

The next second, long fingers tapped my forehead and gently pushed me away.

He brushed past me, grabbed my glass.

“Sorry, I’ve got a cold—can’t pass it to my Savannah.”

He said it lightly, but there was a finality to it. The crowd groaned, but no one pushed further.

“I’m shy too. Not used to putting on a show in public.”

He glanced at me, a soft smile playing on his lips. I felt my heart twist, unsure if I should be grateful or disappointed.

“How about this—I’ll drink three cups as a penalty.”

He poured three glasses, then finished them all in one go.

He downed them quickly, barely flinching. The table cheered, but I just watched, feeling a strange ache in my chest.

I stared, unable to keep up the smile. My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight.

I forced a laugh, but inside I was crumbling. I looked away, blinking back tears I didn’t want anyone to see.

Not even a kiss on the cheek? He’d rather drink than kiss me?

The thought echoed in my mind, sharp and painful. Was I asking for too much?

Did he… even love me?

The question lingered, heavy and unspoken. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold.