Writers 
Chapter One
Amara was late.
Not five minutes late.
Not ten minutes late.
She was twenty-three minutes late, which meant her first lecture at the university was already underway.
Perfect. First day and I'm already making an impression.
“I'm finished,” she whispered, running across campus.
Her bag bounced against her side as she hurried past students. She was still trying to fix her hair with one hand when—
BAM!
Her books flew everywhere.
“Seriously?” a deep voice said.
Amara looked up.
A tall guy stood in front of her, staring at the coffee stain spreading across his white shirt.
Oh.
She blinked.
Okay. He's handsome.
She immediately shook the thought away.
Nope. Not today. I'm already late. I don't have time to notice handsome strangers.
Then she looked at his expression.
Actually… forget handsome. He looks like he's about to arrest me.
She glanced at the tiny coffee stain.
Then at him again.
“Okay,” she said. “Before you start shouting, I just want to say…”
He waited.
“…your shirt was already boring.”
Why did I say that?
His eyes narrowed.
“You spilled coffee on me.”
“I noticed.”
“And you're making jokes?”
“Would you prefer I cry?”
Please say no. I don't have enough emotional energy for crying before my first lecture.
He stared at her like she'd just spoken another language.
Amara crouched down and started gathering her books.
Okay, Amara. Pick up your books, apologize, and leave. Simple.
She looked up at him.
Why is he still staring?
“You should probably move,” she said. “You're blocking my way.”
“You're unbelievable.”
And you're annoying.
“And you're blocking my way again.”
He stepped aside.
Amara stood, hugged her books to her chest, and gave him a quick smile.
“Nice meeting you, Angry Shirt.”
She hurried away.
Please don't let me ever see that man again.
Amara finally reached her lecture hall and quietly slipped through the door.
The lecturer stopped talking.
The entire class turned toward her.
Oh no.
She smiled awkwardly.
“Good morning.”
“Twenty-three minutes late, Miss?”
Amara glanced at the clock.
“Technically, twenty-four now.”
A few students laughed.
At least somebody appreciates me.
The lecturer sighed.
“Take your seat.”
Amara quickly found an empty chair.
She was halfway through opening her notebook when someone dropped into the seat beside her.
She turned.
Her smile disappeared.
White shirt.
Coffee stain.
Cold expression.
No.
She blinked.
Absolutely not.
Angry Shirt.
Adrian looked at her.
Amara stared back.
“You've got to be kidding me.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Okay. Breathe.
Amara glanced around the lecture hall.
Most of the seats were occupied, and the chair beside her was one of the few remaining empty ones.
Of course. The only empty seat had to be mine.
She turned back toward the lecturer.
It's fine. I can survive one lecture sitting beside Mr. Personality.
Then Adrian glanced at her.
She looked away.
Why do I have a feeling this guy is going to be a problem?
For the first time that morning, Amara had nothing to say.
And somehow, she knew this was only the beginning.