the Levee

The air in Sydney tasted like hot asphalt and exhaust fumes. It was nothing like the crisp, eucalyptus-scented mornings back home, but Sienna Vance didn’t care.

She breathed it in anyway.

“If one more person bumps into me with a clipboard, I’m using my heel as a weapon,” Damo muttered, adjusting his tote strap.

His half-Japanese, half-Maori features were tight with mock annoyance, but his eyes were scanning the university quad with pure curiosity.

Sienna laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Come on, Damo. It’s Orientation Week. We survived a country town with one working traffic light. We can handle a few thousand university students.”

“Yeah, well, the country town didn’t have a giant banner hanging over the main gates that says Welcome to Sex Week,” Damo pointed out, gesturing to the massive, crimson lettering draped across the sandstone facade.

Pamphlets about safety, freedom, and exploration were being tossed around like confetti. “It’s a bit intense for a Monday morning.”

“It’s freedom,” Sienna said softly.

That was the word she kept returning to.

Back on the farm, life was mapped out by seasons, early mornings, and a local boy whose expectations had felt like a slow-closing cage.

Losing her virginity to him hadn’t been tragic; it had just been… ordinary. A checkbox marked off because it was time. Here, flatting in a tiny, overpriced apartment with her best friend, the world felt wide open. She wanted to experience everything.

“Look out—” Damo started.

But he was too late.

Sienna turned right into a heavy, unyielding shoulder. The collision sent her folders flying, loose papers scattering across the concrete like white leaves.

“Fuck, my bad,” a deep, rough voice muttered.

Sienna looked up, ready to snap a small-town retort, but the words died in her throat.

The boy standing in front of her was eighteen, but he carried himself with the heavy, restless arrogance of someone who owned the concrete beneath his boots.

Dark hair, eyes that looked right through you, and a sharp, cynical line to his mouth.

He looked like money, but the dangerous kind—the kind that didn’t care about breaking things.

“You alright?” he asked. He didn’t bend down to pick up the papers immediately. Instead, his gaze locked onto hers, heavy and deliberate.

“I’m fine,” Sienna said, her voice steadier than she felt.

She tilted her chin up, refusing to be intimidated by the sheer size of him. “You usually walk like a bulldozer, or is this a special Orientation Week talent?”

A slow, wicked grin broke across his face. It changed his entire demeanour, turning the coldness into something sharp and inviting.

Behind him, a tall Portuguese kid with sunglasses pushed up on his head—Chico—snorted and leaned against a stone pillar, thoroughly amused.

“Only on Mondays,” the boy replied, his eyes dropping to her mouth for a fraction of a second before returning to her eyes. “I’m Cody.”

“Sienna.”

“Well, Sienna,” Cody said, stepping just an inch closer, entirely ignoring the crowd swirling around them.

The restless energy radiating off him was palpable. “Since I ruined your paperwork, the least I can do is buy you something cold to drink. Or are you going to keep standing there looking at me like I’m a criminal?”

“You look like a lot of things, Cody,” Sienna countered, her small-town grit anchoring her against his confidence.

She gave him a cool, slow smile that matched his own pace. “But a gentleman isn’t one of them. I can pick up my own papers.”

Chico let out a low whistle from the background. “Ouch. She saw right through the Blackwood charm, mate. Let’s go before you lose your dignity completely.”

Cody didn’t look back at his friend. His eyes stayed glued to Sienna as she finally knelt to gather her folders.

He dropped to one knee beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they both reached for the same sheet of paper. A sudden, sharp static arc jumped between their skin.

Cody paused, his fingers lingering on the page.

The humour faded from his face for a split second, replaced by something dark, curious, and entirely too intense for a campus quad.

“See you around, Sienna,” he murmured, rising to his feet and tossing the paper onto her neat stack.

As Cody turned away, Chico fell into step beside him, immediately hitting him with a grin. “What was that? You looked like a stray dog staring at a steak.”

“Shut up,” Cody muttered, his eyes still fixed ahead, though his mind was clearly lingering on the girl on the pavement. “She’s different.”

“She’s a country girl, mate. You can see the small-town dirt on her boots from a mile away,” Chico laughed, clipping him on the shoulder. “And she didn’t drop to her knees for the Blackwood name. I like her. She’s got teeth.”

“I noticed,” Cody said, a slow, dangerous smile returning to his face. “Makes it more fun.”

“Yeah, well, keep your head in the game,” Chico replied, throwing an arm over his shoulder as they pushed past a group handing out Sex Week safety kits. “We have a party to get to on Thursday, a metric ton of cheap alcohol to consume, and your dad’s driver is tracking the car. Priorities, Blackwood.”

Back on the quad, Sienna stood up, her heart hammering a completely new rhythm against her ribs.

“Well,” Damo said, stepping up beside her and watching the two boys disappear into the sea of students. “Welcome to Sydney, babe. I think you just collided with trouble.”

Sienna looked down at the paper in her hand, the ghost of his touch still itching on her skin. “Maybe trouble is exactly what I’m looking for.”