Chapter 12 The Counter-Attack

Chapter 12 The Counter-Attack
The junior Finance class had a massive group chat. It had existed for three years, and they rarely added exchange students or transfers just to avoid the awkwardness of having to kick them out later.
But today, the girl who had just witnessed a literal romantic drama unfold at her desk practically sprinted back to her seat. Completely abandoning any thoughts about stock market risks or returns, she immediately started furiously typing to her friends. Within seconds, the gossip exploded into the main class group chat.
[Junior Finance 101]
[Student A]: Omg you guys, the two exchange students in our class are actually sickeningly sweet! Ahhhh!
[Student B]: What happened?! Spill!
[Student A]: So [Redacted] just went over to ask the academic goddess a question, right? And she jokingly asked if she could 'borrow' Ruth for a bit. And Ruth's teammates were like, 'We don't have the authority to loan her out, you have to ask Matthew!'
[Student A]: So she actually asked him! And guess what he did?! He literally pulled her right into his chest! He wrapped his arm around her and said, 'She's our precious resource. Not for loan.' HOLY. SHIT.
[Student C]: ...Holy fuck that is so smooth.
[Student D]: So smooth I am actually deceased.
[Student E]: ...Wait, my dorm was literally just debating last night whether they were actually a thing or if people were just shipping them because they're both ridiculously hot... Someone post this to the forum! We finally have the receipts!
[Student F]: Attention all single men in this chat: stop whining about being single and take notes. This is how you actually lock down a girl!
Meanwhile, back in the real world, the exact moment Matthew delivered that devastating line, the three people sitting in the front row looked like someone had hit the pause button on their brains.
Tom, Jerry, and Helen stared blankly at Matthew's arm firmly wrapped around Ruth's shoulders.
A collective thought flashed through all three of their minds simultaneously:
...Precious resource?
When did we agree she was our precious resource?
Are you sure YOU don't just want to monopolize her? Did you really just forcibly claim her on behalf of the team?!
It wasn't until the shy girl finally scurried away that the trio snapped out of their trance.
Tom was the first to react. "Oh, wow, look at the time... class is about to start. We should probably review the PowerPoint!"
Helen aggressively caught the hint. "...Oh! Right! Yes! Professor Liu is terrifying, what if he calls on me?!" She immediately spun around in her chair and began frantically flipping through a blank notebook.
Only Jerry remained entirely clueless, a sleazy, teasing grin plastered on his face. "Hey, hey, what are you guys studying for? What's the rush? Didn't you just see them—Mmph!"
Before Jerry could finish his sentence, Tom slapped a hand over his mouth and physically dragged him around to face the front of the classroom. Tom hissed a vicious threat into his ear, and Jerry finally stopped struggling.
Ruth stared at the three identical backs perfectly lined up in front of her. Their posture practically screamed a collective message:
Please continue, we are legally deaf and blind.
Ruth: "............"
Thanks to the trio's dramatic exit, the already charged atmosphere suddenly shifted, thickening into something incredibly dangerous and heavy.
When Matthew first spoke, he had pulled her in tightly. But now, his arm was just lazily draped over her shoulders. Ruth shifted in her seat, trying to put a few inches between them, but his arm casually followed her, remaining exactly where it was.
Even though it was just his arm, the posture felt entirely too intimate.
Ruth turned to look at him. "Are you going to move your arm?" She pressed her lips together, her voice dropping into a quiet, embarrassed mumble. "...Or are we just 'bros' now?"
Hearing the word bros, Matthew couldn't hold back a laugh.
Bros? What kind of insane mental gymnastics did this girl's brain just do?
He finally dropped his arm, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Ruth just stared at him, completely baffled by what was so funny.
After a long moment, Matthew finally caught his breath. "Who wants to be bros with you?"
Because he had laughed so hard, he reached up to wipe a tiny tear from the corner of his eye. When he looked back at her, his amber eyes were bright, liquid, and devastatingly gorgeous.
The corner of his lips tilted up into a wicked, knowing smirk. "Are you really sure I wasn't just using that as an excuse to put my hands on you?"
Ahhhhhhh why are you saying things like that with that face! I am so weak for this face, this is illegal ahhhhhhh!
While Ruth's internal monologue was screaming at maximum volume, the tips of her ears began to burn violently.
You can't just take this! she ordered herself.
You have to fight back! Flirt back! Touch him!
Are you really going to let him completely dominate you every single time?!
Ruth took a deep, shuddering breath. She closed her eyes for a split second to gather her courage, then opened them and stared directly into Matthew's eyes with absolute, deadly seriousness.
"Don't move," she commanded.
"..." It sounded like a genuine threat. Matthew blinked in surprise, but he smoothly agreed. "Alright. I won't move."
Moving in agonizing slow motion, Ruth reached her hand out toward his face—
First, she lightly tugged at a strand of his hair. Just as she suspected, it was incredibly soft.
Then, her fingers brushed against his eyelashes. She couldn't help but violently curse in her head: Motherfucker, how are his eyelashes this long and curly?! This is genetically unfair to women!
As Matthew blinked, her fingertips trailed downward, tracing the straight, elegant slope of his nose, before hovering hesitantly right at the edge of his lips.
He had an incredibly beautiful mouth. His lips were thin, naturally flushed, and naturally looked slightly hydrated. They were the most dangerous part of his face when he smiled.
Ruth gathered her courage. She tried to hype herself up.
But in the end, she absolutely chickened out. She abruptly detoured her hand.
...Ahem. The lips are off-limits for now. I'll save that for... later!
Instead, her fingers landed softly on his cheek. Giving into the urge, she pinched him. Just a little. His pale skin felt exactly like premium, polished jade—slightly cool to the touch, incredibly smooth, and flawless.
Matthew's skin was naturally cooler than her hand. Wherever her warm fingertips brushed against him, it felt like a tiny, microscopic electric current was sinking directly through his pores. It was a tingling, maddening sensation.
Looking at her face hovering just inches from his own, he suddenly felt a deep, unfamiliar itch in the center of his chest.
The entire process lasted barely fifteen seconds. Having thoroughly played with his face, Ruth pulled her hand back. "Alright, you can move now."
Matthew didn't say a word. His expression was slightly blank, clearly still processing what had just happened.
"Obviously, I didn't just do that for no reason..." Ruth muttered, her voice incredibly small.
"Since you took advantage of me," she continued, her bravado completely failing her but stubbornly pushing through the excuse anyway. "...I had to take advantage of you back."
Even though he was the one who just got physically harassed, Ruth's ears were currently glowing bright red. Her large eyes darted frantically around the room, looking everywhere except at his face.
Matthew’s eyelid twitched.
Deep in his chest, he viciously swore.

After that class, the Finance department had their first official Physical Education period of the semester.
They had picked their electives during the second week of school, but the classes only officially started half a month later.
At the time, there had been dozens of options. Ruth had scrolled through the list, entirely uninterested in all of them, until she noticed that Matthew had selected Basketball. So, naturally, she selected Basketball.
She originally assumed that very few girls would sign up for such a high-intensity sport, but when she arrived at the outdoor courts, she found a massive crowd of female students.
Helen quickly educated her: "All the PE classes are held on different courts. Most girls don't actually want to sweat or play volleyball. The ultimate joy of this class is watching the hot guys play basketball! We get front-row seats to the absolute best show on campus!"
Ruth thought about it and realized Helen was completely right. Sitting on the bleachers and watching guys sweat was a timeless, universal female tradition.
Even though the class was technically co-ed, the professor quickly separated them for drills, but once they were dismissed for "free practice," everyone just mingled back together on the courts.
Ruth had been standing with Helen during the lineup. The second the professor yelled "Dismissed," she turned around and immediately saw Matthew waiting for her at the edge of the crowd.
There were girls from several different majors standing around. Many of them who had never seen Matthew up close before started audibly whispering 'Holy shit' at his face, while the girls from the Finance class instantly let out a collective, knowing 'Ooooooh'.
The hype squad was entirely led by Helen. She practically shoved Ruth toward Matthew, waving her hands dramatically. "Have fun, Ru! I am retreating! I am leaving the premises!"
When Ruth dealt with Helen, Jerry, or the other girls in her class, she always felt a bizarre, maternal affection for them. She thought they were cute, loud, and slightly childish—even though she was only a year or two older than them.
But when she was facing Matthew Lynes? That feeling completely vanished.
With him, she was always the one getting led around by the nose.
Matthew held a basketball in one hand, casually tossing it back and forth between his palms as he walked up to her. His posture was effortlessly athletic. "You like basketball?"
Ruth shook her head.
He raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you pick it?"
Ruth thought about it. I've already touched his face today. What's the point of lying now?
"I saw that you picked it, so I picked it," she said bluntly.
"Oh. I see..." Matthew nodded slowly, that familiar, lethal half-smile returning to his face. "So you're clinging to me?"
Ruth aggressively filtered that sentence out of her brain and pretended she was suddenly deaf. Matthew didn't push it, simply turning and leading her toward an empty half-court.
Once they got close to the hoop, Ruth suddenly felt a spike of genuine excitement. Her brain flashed to countless movie scenes. She looked up at the man beside her. "Hey, you know in the movies when the guy bets he can make ten shots in a row without missing? Can you do that?"
Matthew glanced down at her but didn't say a word.
However, his silence and his expression loudly broadcasted a single, undeniable thought: 'Step back. I am about to show off.'
Matthew lazily dribbled the ball, stopping right outside the three-point line.
He raised the ball, his arms extending, his wrist snapping downward with perfect, effortless fluidity. The bright orange basketball arched through the air in a flawless parabola and dropped straight through the hoop without even grazing the rim.
Swish.
"Woah!" Ruth cheered, genuinely impressed.
She knew absolutely nothing about playing basketball, but back at Harvard, one of her closest friends had been obsessed with the NBA. As a total outsider, Ruth had been dragged into watching enough games to recognize good form.
Matthew's form was absolutely beautiful. It was textbook perfect, and combined with his devastating looks, the entire sequence looked like a high-budget Nike commercial.
Following the exact same motion, he casually sank the next nine shots in a row. Every single one followed the exact same arc. Most of them were clean swishes.
It was a flawless, highly successful flex.
"I want to try!" Ruth demanded, suddenly fired up.
She walked over to the exact spot Matthew had been standing. With immense, fiery passion, she launched ten shots at the hoop. She even jumped on a few of them to get more power.
She made exactly one.
A profound, deeply humiliating sense of 'you are absolutely not built for this' washed over her.
He was out here getting MVP, and she was out here looking like a massive idiot.
She was complete garbage.
Ruth stopped, clutching the basketball to her chest. She looked up, about to complain, but immediately caught the aggressively suppressed smile twitching on Matthew's lips.
Pure embarrassment flared in her chest.
Nobody is perfect! You can't have brains, beauty, AND athletic ability!
"What are you smiling at?!" Ruth snapped, practically throwing the ball back at him. She lifted her chin stubbornly. "Have you never seen someone who's just academically specialized?!"
...He had certainly never seen anyone describe 'sucking at sports' as being academically specialized.
Matthew wanted to laugh even harder. Looking at her wide, glaring eyes, he casually caught the ball and spun it on his index finger. He nodded solemnly. "I've seen academically specialized people before."
Ruth gave him a tiny, victorious eye roll.
But before she could even finish rolling her eyes, he added, his voice thick with laughter, "I've just never seen one this cute."
Motherfucker.
If he insulted her, she could fight back. But when he flirted like that... she had zero defense.
Ruth's face burned. She instantly realized that all of her fake anger had completely evaporated.
She gritted her teeth and turned away. "I'm not shooting anymore. I don't have the talent."
"It's not a lack of talent," Matthew said softly. He stepped forward, seamlessly hooking his long leg out to trap the ball she had just kicked away, popping it back up into his hands. He smiled. "—It's just a lack of a good teacher."
"Yeah right," Ruth scoffed, refusing to believe him. "You can't just 'teach' someone to be good at basketball..." Weren't all the star players just born with it?
"I'll teach you," Matthew murmured, gesturing with two fingers. "Come here."
Ruth slowly, suspiciously shuffled over to him.
Before she could even ask what he was planning, his hand suddenly shot out, catching her by the wrist. He pulled her forward, using his momentum to spin her halfway around until her back was facing him.
A split second later, a heavy basketball was pressed into her hands.
He was standing directly behind her. Because of the massive height difference, he had to lean down slightly. Ruth could feel the solid, radiating heat of his chest pressing flush against her back.
"Sorry, I forgot to mention earlier..."
His voice vibrated right next to her ear, low, incredibly magnetic, and dripping with a wicked smile.
"...Teaching basketball requires a little bit of crossing the line."
Ruth was completely caged in his arms. The clean, crisp scent of mint completely surrounded her, drowning out her senses.
Hearing those words whispered directly against her skin, her face erupted in heat. She felt like she had just been thrown into a steamer.
He placed both of his large hands directly over hers. His grip wasn't tight, but it was absolute. He guided her arms up, raising the ball above her head. He murmured instructions right against her ear—something about 'bend your elbows this much', 'push outward', 'snap your wrists'—but Ruth's brain had completely flatlined. She didn't process a single syllable.
By the time she finally snapped back to reality, Matthew had already guided her arms through the motion, launching the ball perfectly into the net.
The coach's sexy, devastating voice felt like a 360-degree surround sound system vibrating directly inside her head.
"How was that?" he whispered. "Did you learn it?"
Ruth took a slow, agonizing assessment of her violently racing heart.
This isn't a basketball lesson.
This is a lethal attack on my cardiovascular system.