Hands Off, Reagan [Flashback]

Hands Off, Reagan [Flashback]
He waited until I finished eating… or more accurately, until my plate was empty because he’d helped himself to half of it, before finally moving. 
The moment I stood, he rose too, like a cocky shadow, tossing his leather jacket over his shoulder and looking at me like I was his main agenda for the afternoon.
“I’m walking,” I said, grabbing my bag.
Reagan ignored me completely. “My car’s in the east lot.”
“Good for you.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“I don’t need you to.”
He tilted his head, that thin smile on his lips like a dare. “Say that again, Gee.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I. Don’t. Need. You. To.”
“Funny,” he said as he headed toward the cafeteria door, expecting me to follow. “I’m still going to.”
One thing about Reagan Milano: the word no didn’t exist in his vocabulary. To him, no was just yes that needed a little persuasion… or a lot.
I kept walking in the opposite direction, but he quickened his pace, cut me off, and opened the door for me. Force, disguised as expensive manners.
“Reagan.”
“Gretta.”
His voice was calm, but those gray eyes—God—had the kind of intensity that said I’ve already decided I’m driving you, so accept your fate.
In the parking lot, his car stood out among the student sedans. Black, polished, and so Reagan: too expensive to belong on campus asphalt, but there it was without a shred of guilt.
He opened the passenger door.
I just stood there, looking from the door to his face. “If I get in, it’s not because you made me. It’s because I’m too tired to argue.”
The corner of his mouth curved. “Whatever helps you feel in control, baby.”
The moment I sat down, the scent of leather and his cologne filled the tight space. He got in, started the engine, and the car slid smoothly out of the lot. 
“Address?” he asked.
“You know that.”
“True.” He glanced at me, eyes glinting with mischief. “I know a lot of things about you.”
We rolled past the campus gates, and I’d already decided to stare straight ahead until the ride was over. The only sounds were the quiet purr of the engine and a soft old rock track on the radio. Until Reagan slid one hand off the wheel and, without warning, caught my hand in my lap.
Reflexively, I pulled away. “Seriously?”
He just raised an eyebrow, still watching the road. “My hand’s cold. You’re warm.”
“Buy gloves.”
“Buy me time with your hand.” His tone was casual, but there was that faint smirk designed to test my patience.
I sighed, hugging my bag tighter, leaning toward the door like physical distance could make him stop. Then, out of nowhere, his fingers brushed the ends of my hair spilling over my shoulder. Just a little, but enough to make me snap my head toward him with a warning look.
“Stop,” I said.
He put on an innocent face. “Just making sure your hair’s neat. We wouldn’t want people thinking I kidnapped you, right?”
“They’ll know you kidnapped me from the way you drive.”
He chuckled, that low sound filling the small space. Then, as if testing me wasn’t enough, he patted my thigh once, casually, before returning to the wheel.
I scoffed. “I swear, if you do that again—”
“What will you do?” He gave me a quick side glance, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “Gee, we both know your threats never actually get rid of me.”
I shot him a sharp look. “And we both know you’ve never learned the concept of personal space.”
He just laughed under his breath, then said, “You know, you should just say yes to me being your boyfriend. Your life would be easier.”
I almost choked. “Excuse me?”
“Think about it, Gee.” He shrugged like this was the most logical argument in the world. “I’m handsome, obviously. I’m rich, that’s a fact. I’m the campus football star, and we both know I’m not just riding the title. And…” he glanced at me, eyes glinting wickedly, “I’m sexy.”
I stared at him, debating whether to kiss or slap him. “You forgot arrogant and insufferable.”
“Those are just bonuses,” he shot back without missing a beat.
I rolled my eyes, turning to the window. But damn it, I could feel his gaze on the side of my face, that too-confident look like he’d already decided I was going to give in one day.
:::
The tires had barely stopped in front of my building when I was already halfway out of my seat. The passenger door swung open before the engine had even fully shut off. I stepped out quickly, eager to cut off any chance of Reagan making another comment that might trigger an early migraine.
Of course, the sound of his footsteps followed me. He shut his car door with lazy precision, the soft beep of the lock echoing behind us, and then he matched my stride like a shadow that knew every beat of my movements.
“I’m just making sure you get home safe.” His tone was calm, but I knew better. Reagan Milano never did anything without an ulterior motive.
I sighed, twisting my key in the lock. “What, you think I’m going to get ambushed by vampires in the hallway?”
“With your taste in movies, it’s possible,” he said flatly, tilting his head with a half-smile.
I didn’t know if I was too tired to argue or just too lazy, but somehow I let him follow me inside.
Mistake number one of the day.
The moment he stepped across the threshold, his eyes swept over my place like a real estate inspector, or a professional thief. He nodded to himself, lips curling as if he’d spotted something amusing.
“Cleaner than the last time I saw it,” he said.
My head snapped toward him. “Excuse me, the last time you saw it?”
He shrugged, all fake innocence. “I have eyes, Gee. And I happen to walk around this building sometimes.”
“So you stalk me.”
“That’s a harsh word,” he replied easily. “I prefer ‘watching from a distance with care’.”
I grabbed the dish towel hanging from the oven handle and tossed it straight at his face. He caught it without even looking, because of course he had the reflexes of a predator.
He tossed it onto the table and dropped onto my couch like he owned it. “If you want this place to have more color… we could live together.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re insane.”
He leaned back, head resting against the couch, his long legs stretching out across my carpet like he’d already decided he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I headed to my bedroom, grabbed a towel and a change of clothes. By the time the door shut behind me, I wasn’t even sure why I’d let him into my personal space.
The moment warm water hit my head in the shower, my mind was supposed to quiet down.
Supposed to.
Instead, it betrayed me.
Out of nowhere, the image surfaced: Reagan on the field, the first American football game I’d ever watched on campus. I’d been in the stands with Naomi, pretending not to care, but my eyes had been fixed on him.
The stadium lights skimmed over sweat-slicked skin, the muscles in his back shifting as he pulled off his helmet, then his jersey, without the slightest hesitation. The roar of the crowd faded to background noise while he joked with his teammates, that low laugh...
I bit my lip, closing my eyes, not to chase the image away, but to let it sharpen.
That broad chest, the perfect cut of his abs, the victorious glint in his eyes as they celebrated the final score.
And now, the same man was sitting on my couch. Shirtless probably wouldn’t even cross his mind as unusual. And me… I was the one who had to hold back.