ELI

He didn’t smile. Not once.

“I’ll be taking over Trial Advocacy this semester,” he said, placing a neat stack of books on the desk. “You’ve had your reading list emailed to you. The exam breakdown is already online. I don’t do reminders. I don’t do extensions. If you want to be lawyers, act like it.”

Silence. I could feel the entire room blinking in unison.

He didn’t wait for us to catch our breath.

“Before we begin,” he continued, pulling a marker from his coat pocket, “we’ll do quick introductions. Just your last names. Loud enough for me to hear. No explanations. Start from the first row.”

People started calling out names.

“Hassan.”

“Liu.”

“Martins.”

One by one. Flat, dry, nervous.

He barely nodded at each one. Didn’t write anything down. I doubt he even blinked.

Maya nudged me with her elbow. “He’s terrifying. I love it.”

I didn’t say anything.

When it got to her, she lifted her chin proudly and said, “Maya Adeniran.”

He looked at her for half a second before moving on.

I cleared my throat. “Rivera.”

That’s when his eyes paused on me.

Not long. Just long enough for me to feel it.

He nodded and moved on.

I sank lower in my seat.

This is insane.

Liam’s brother. Liam’s older brother was now my professor. Tall, cold, intimidating Carter Vale. The same man who barely spoke to me at family dinners. The same man who looked at me like I was a stain on his brother’s reputation. And now he was standing at the front of my class.

Could the universe get any more dramatic?

He turned back to the board and began scribbling down some terms.

“Cross-examination,” he wrote. “Witness credibility. Objection handling. Real-time strategy.”

“This course is practical. I don’t care how well you write essays. I care how well you think on your feet. If you can’t argue your point without stuttering, walk out now.”

Someone coughed awkwardly.

Maya leaned toward me. “He’s insane. I’m obsessed.”

I groaned quietly. “Please. That’s Liam’s brother.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Carter. He’s Liam’s older brother.”

Her eyes widened like saucers.

Then she screamed.

Okay—not screamed. But she gasped so dramatically it echoed.

Every single head turned toward us.

I wanted to melt into the seat and die.

Carter looked directly at her. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Miss Adeniran?”

Maya sat up straight like she’d been electrocuted. “No, sir. Sorry. I—uh—just remembered I left my flat iron on. It’s fine now. Very fine. Sorry. Continue.”

Carter raised an eyebrow. Then went right back to writing on the board.

I pressed my forehead against my notebook.

“I hate you,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t know,” she whispered back. “That makes this ten times hotter.”

“Kill me.”

He started teaching right away. No break. No mercy. Just straight into case law, courtroom procedures, and real-life examples.

“Who can tell me what happens when a lawyer makes a personal attack on opposing counsel during closing arguments?” he asked, turning around.

Silence.

He scanned the room.

“If you don’t know, say so. I’d rather have honesty than stupidity.”

Someone in the front raised their hand. “Objection for misconduct?”

“Which rule of professional conduct does that violate?”

Another silence.

I glanced down at my notes, hoping he wouldn’t—

“Rivera.”

I looked up.

My mouth was suddenly dry. “Yes?”

“What happens when personal attacks are made during closing arguments?”

I tried to remember. “Depends on context. It could lead to a sustained objection or, if extreme, a mistrial.”

“And what would the judge look for to decide that?”

I shifted in my seat. “Whether it prejudiced the jury, or if it was a direct attack on character rather than the facts.”

He crossed his arms. “What if the lawyer says, and I quote, ‘The defense is as pathetic as the lies they just told you’?”

I blinked. “That’s… clearly misconduct.”

“Clearly?” he repeated.

I bit my lip. “It’s inflammatory.”

“But is it reversible error?”

I hesitated. “Possibly, if the judge believes it affected the verdict.”

He tilted his head. “So only possibly?”

“It depends on whether it’s a pattern—”

“That wasn’t the question.”

My cheeks burned.

Maya glanced at me.

Carter stepped closer. “Confidence is crucial in court, Rivera. If you can’t answer clearly, how do you expect a jury to believe you?”

I exhaled slowly. “Then no. It’s not automatically reversible error.”

He stared at me. “Better.”

I looked away.

He kept going like nothing happened.

But my heart wouldn’t slow down.

He kept calling on other people after that. A few stumbled. One guy tried to flirt and got completely ignored. Carter didn’t give anyone special attention. But I still felt like he was watching me every time he turned toward the board.

When the class finally ended, people started packing their bags fast. Maya stood, ready to leave.

Then I heard him.

“Mr. Rivera.”

I froze.

Everyone else kept moving, but my feet stayed planted.

“Stay behind,” he said. Calm. Plain. Like he hadn’t just ruined my whole day.

Maya looked at me with wide eyes.

“I’ll wait outside,” she whispered, squeezing my arm.

I nodded.

My chest was tight again.

The room slowly emptied, leaving just the two of us.

I didn’t dare look up.

I already knew what was coming.

The room was quiet.

Carter closed the door behind the last student, then turned slowly. His eyes landed on me, sharp as always.

I stood near my seat, unsure what to do with my hands.

He walked toward the desk, set down a folder, and said flatly, “If you’re going to be in my class, I suggest you learn how to focus.”

I blinked. “I was—”

“You weren’t,” he cut in. “You were whispering. Distracted. Your answers lacked clarity. I expect better.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies,” he said, still not looking at me. “I want improvement.”

I looked down at my shoes. My fingers were curled around the strap of my bag, tight.

He finally raised his head and stared straight at me. “You might be sleeping with Liam, but in this room, that doesn’t matter. You don’t get special treatment.”

My eyes widened. “We’re not—”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, cutting me off again.

I opened my mouth to explain. To say it ended. To say it hurt. But he already turned away.

“You’re dismissed.”

The words were like a door slamming in my face.

I stood there for a second, my mouth half open, chest burning.

Then I nodded slowly and grabbed my bag.

I walked out with my jaw tight and throat dry.

Maya was leaning against the wall, still scrolling through her phone.

“Finally,” she said, standing upright. “What happened?”

I exhaled hard. “He said I should pay attention. And that I won’t get special treatment just because I’m sleeping with Liam.”

She choked. “He what?”

I nodded, tired. “Yeah.”

“But—” she stared at me. “Did you tell him you broke up?”

“I tried.”

She shook her head. “And he didn’t let you talk?”

“Nope.”

She rolled her eyes hard. “Wow. He’s hot, but he’s a jerk. A cold, dramatic, six-foot jerk.”

I didn’t respond.

Maya stretched her arms. “I’m going to the salon. I’m tired of this growth. My scalp is crying. It’s been, what—seven weeks?”

I looked at her hair and nodded. “Yeah, it’s time.”

She tugged gently at one braid. “Edges are fighting for their life. Black girl emergency.”

I smiled weakly. “Tell Kemi I said hi.”

“I will,” she said, hugging me quickly. “Text me if that man bothers you again. I’ll come back and throw my whole purse at his head.”

I laughed under my breath. “Not the purse.”

She gave me a little wink and walked off down the hallway.

I walked in the opposite direction, still feeling Carter’s words echo in my head. I tried to shake it off, but it stuck to me like dust. Like shame.

The air outside felt dry. I pulled my hoodie tighter around me, shoved my hands into my pockets, and started heading home.

I was halfway to my apartment when my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I almost ignored it, but something inside me said pick up.

I answered.

And froze.

My legs stopped moving.

Then I started running.

CARTER

I sat with my hands folded neatly on the table. The glass of red wine in front of me remained untouched. My father was talking about stock portfolios again. My mother kept nodding politely, her hand resting lightly on the armrest of her chair. The dining room was warm. Too warm. I could feel the heat crawling under my collar.

“So, Liam,” my father said, turning slightly. “How’s criminology going?”

Liam grinned. “Good. I’m taking a forensic psychology class this semester. Pretty cool stuff.”

My father gave a small nod. “You’re not planning on becoming one of those criminal profilers, are you?”

Liam laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I might go into policy work.”

My father hummed, clearly unimpressed.

He looked at me next. “And your first week at the university?”

“Fine,” I said, slicing into my steak.

“Settling in?”

“Yes.”

He waited. I didn’t say more.

My mother stepped in, smiling gently. “You always liked teaching, Carter.”

I nodded once.

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

There was a girl next to Liam. Pretty. Curly hair. Long lashes. She hadn’t said much since we sat down, just smiled and listened. I watched her for a moment. The way she leaned toward him. The way her hand brushed his arm when he said something dumb.

I looked at her again. Then at him.

He caught me staring.

“This is Zara,” Liam said casually. “My girlfriend.”

I froze.

Only for a second.

My knife kept moving.

My face stayed blank.

But my head was suddenly louder than before.

“She’s really sweet,” my mother said, smiling warmly.

“Yeah,” Liam said, beaming. “She’s been amazing.”

I sipped my wine. Slowly.

“Girlfriend?” my father repeated.

“Yep.”

There was a pause.

“What happened to Eli though?” my mother asked softly.

I didn’t look up.

Liam shrugged. “We broke up.”

The words dropped into the room like cold water.

My chest tightened.

I chewed slowly.

“You were with Eli for what—a year?” my father asked.

“More like two,” Liam said.

“And now you’re just… done?”

Liam glanced at Zara, then looked back. “It wasn’t working. He’s been going through a lot. I couldn’t be everything he needed.”

I stared at my plate.

My hands didn’t shake.

My face didn’t move.

But in my head, I remembered exactly what I said to Eli after class. About special treatment. About sleeping with my brother.

I swallowed hard and set my fork down.

Excused myself quietly.

In the bathroom, I closed the door, leaned over the sink, and stared at the porcelain.

Then I pressed my palm to my face and stayed like that.

What a mess.

I walked back out, buttoning my sleeve.

And stopped.

She was waiting in the hallway.

Zara.

Liam’s girlfriend.

She looked up when I approached.

“Hey,” she said again, stepping a little closer. “Do you have a minute?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her.

She looked back toward the dining room. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of everyone… but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “From Liam?”

She smiled, like that wasn’t the question she wanted me to ask. “From everyone, actually. You’re kind of a legend.”

I said nothing.

Zara took a step closer. “You’re even hotter in person.”

I blinked once. Slowly.

She kept going. “You don’t talk much, which is… hot. And you look like you don’t take shit from anyone.” Her voice dipped, a little softer. “I like that.”

Still, I said nothing.

Then she reached out and touched my chest. Lightly. Fingertips barely pressing into the fabric of my shirt.

That’s when I moved.

Not much.

Just enough to grab her wrist and pull it off me.

I looked her straight in the eye.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I said calmly.

She laughed like I was joking. “Come on, Carter. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed me—”

“I noticed,” I said coldly. “I’m just not interested.”

She blinked, still trying. “Why not?”

I looked at her like she was beneath me. “Because I don’t do trash.”

Her smile finally dropped.

She stepped back a little. “Excuse me?”

I didn’t flinch. “You’re sleeping with my brother while still staring at other men across the table. That’s pathetic.”

She crossed her arms, but her hands were shaking. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” I said flatly.

She tried to speak again, but the way I stared at her shut her up.

Eventually, she flinched. Just slightly. But I saw it.

I stepped around her without another word.

I didn’t go back to the dining room.

I texted my parents that I had work to finish and left.

Outside, the air was thick with rain. The wind was loud, but I welcomed the noise.

I got in my car and sat there for a minute.

I could’ve gone home. Put on a movie. Had a drink. Slept like usual.

But I kept seeing his face.

Eli.

The way he looked at me after class. The way he tried to speak. The way I shut him down like I had every right to.

He was just some boy.

A student.

But something about him stayed in my chest. That hollow look. That tired voice.

And now Liam had dumped him.

I closed my eyes for a second.

I didn’t owe him anything. He wasn’t my problem.

But still…

I found myself driving.

Not home.

To his apartment.

I’d only been there once, maybe twice. Dropping Liam off months ago. But I remembered the street. I remembered the red door. I remembered the old cracked steps leading up to the second floor.

I parked.

Got out.

Rain hit hard. I pulled my coat tighter, walked up the steps, and stood in front of his door.

I knocked.

Waited.

A few seconds passed.

Then the door opened.

And there he was.

Eli.

Soaked from head to toe, almost shirtless, raindrops running down his cheeks like tears. His hair was wet and pushed back, his lashes dark and heavy. He looked surprised. Small. And somehow still beautiful.

He looked up at me.

I stared back.

ELI

By the time I got to the hospital, I was already drenched.

I had been running before the rain started, but it came down so fast. My clothes stuck to my body. My hair was dripping. I didn’t even feel cold. Not at first. Just scared.

“Eli Rivera?” a nurse asked as I rushed through the doors.

“Yes,” I said, panting. “You called me. My—my mom—”

“Calm down,” she said. “Come with me.”

I followed her down the hall, my sneakers squeaking against the floor.

She stopped outside a waiting area. “She’s stable now, but she had a cardiac episode earlier. It was serious. For a moment… we thought…”

She didn’t finish.

I sat down hard.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

My heart was pounding too fast. My whole chest felt like it was folding in.

I reached for my phone, fingers slippery and trembling. I found my sister’s name and hit call.

She picked up after two rings.

“Eli?” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I’m at the hospital,” I said, voice cracking. “It’s mom. She almost died.”

There was silence on the other end. Then her voice turned serious.

“What happened?”

“They said cardiac arrest or something,” I said, rubbing my face. “I don’t know. She’s stable now, but—I ran here. I—I didn’t know what to do.”

“Eli,” she said gently. “Breathe.”

I tried.

Her voice softened. “I’m not in town. You know that.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said. “Listen to me. Mom is strong. She’s pulled through worse, remember?”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah.”

“She’s stable now,” she repeated. “That’s what matters. You need to stay calm.”

“I—I’m so cold,” I mumbled.

“You’re wet, aren’t you?” she said. “You ran in the rain like a crazy person?”

“I didn’t have time to think.”

She laughed softly. “You never do.”

I smiled faintly.

“I’m coming next week,” she said. “You’re not alone, okay? But you need to rest. You can’t take care of anyone if you collapse.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” She exhaled. “I love you. Try to warm up. Dry clothes. Hot tea. Call me after they give you an update.”

“Okay. Love you too.”

We ended the call, and I just sat there.

A few minutes later, the doctor came out.

“Mr. Rivera?”

I stood up fast. “Yes?”

“She’s stable,” he said. “Still weak, but she’s conscious. We’ll monitor her overnight.”

“Can I see her?”

“Not right now. She’s resting. But tomorrow, yes.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“You should go home,” he said. “Change. Eat something. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

I laughed weakly. “I feel like it.”

He patted my shoulder. “Go. She’s in good hands.”

I thanked him and left the hospital. It was still drizzling outside. I didn’t even bother with a cab. Just walked.

By the time I got home, I was shivering.

My fingers fumbled with the keys. I pushed the door open, kicked off my shoes, and headed straight to the bathroom. My clothes felt like ice. I pulled off the hoodie, then peeled off my soaked T-shirt. Goosebumps were all over my arms.

I unbuttoned my jeans, still shaking. I just wanted to get into dry clothes. Maybe wrap up in a blanket. Maybe cry a little more.

Then—

Knock knock.

I froze.

What?

Another knock.

I pulled my jeans halfway up and stumbled to the door, shirtless and confused.

I opened it slowly.

And stared.

Carter.

Standing in the hallway. Slightly damp. Hands in his coat pockets. That same unreadable expression on his face.

I blinked hard. “What the hell?”

I stared at him like he wasn’t real.

Carter Vale.

At my door.

In the rain.

He looked calm, as usual. Drenched but composed. His dark coat clung to his broad shoulders. His hair was damp, slicked back. He looked like he walked out of a noir film. Or maybe straight out of my stress dreams.

I cleared my throat. “Uh… you wanna come in?”

He didn’t say anything. Just nodded once and stepped inside.

I closed the door behind him, locking it quietly.

The air was tense. Too quiet. The sound of dripping rain off our clothes filled the room.

I turned to him. “What are you doing here? How do you even know my place?”

He looked around like he was memorizing the space. Then back at me. “I dropped Liam here months ago. I remembered the apartment.”

I blinked. “You remembered… my apartment?”

He nodded again.

Okay.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “You’re kinda wet.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I was out,” I mumbled. “Rain caught me halfway.”

He didn’t ask where I went.

I didn’t offer it.

“You want something?” I asked awkwardly. “Like… tea? Or coffee? You’re gonna catch a cold standing there like a statue.”

He didn’t move. Then slowly unbuttoned his coat, shrugged it off, and draped it over the back of the nearest chair. His white shirt underneath was slightly damp too, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like he belonged in some expensive black-and-white film.

“I’ll take tea,” he said finally.

I blinked again. “Okay. Sure.”

I moved to the kitchen, boiled some water, pulled out the one mug in my cupboard that didn’t have a chipped handle, and tried to act normal. Whatever normal meant when your cold, intimidating ex’s brother showed up in your apartment at night.

I poured the tea, handed it to him. He took it carefully.

“Thanks,” he said.

I sat down on the arm of my couch, drying my hair with a towel.

A beat passed.

“Why are you here, Carter?”

He looked at me.

Dead in the eye.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Liam broke up?”

I folded the towel. “I tried in class. You didn’t let me speak. Remember? You cut me off and said I don’t get special treatment just because I’m screwing your brother.”

He blinked slowly. “Right.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So… what? You just came here to remind me of that?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I came to say… for that, I apologize.”

I froze.

Just… sat there.

Blank.

Did this man just—

I stared at him.

For five whole seconds.

“What?” I asked. “As how?”

He didn’t flinch. “I’m aware I was… unnecessarily harsh.”

My brain glitched.

“You apologized.”

“I did.”

I stared harder. “You don’t strike me as someone who does that often.”

“I don’t.”

I shook my head slowly. “Okay. Now I’m convinced I have a fever.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because you’re apologizing. In my living room. With tea. And you actually sound sincere. Which is terrifying.”

His lips twitched. Not quite a smile. But something close.

“I’m not here to cause problems,” he said.

“Then why are you here?” I asked again.

He didn’t answer me.

Just kept sipping his tea, staring at me like he was studying every breath I took.

The silence started crawling over my skin.

I stood up quickly, trying to clear my head. “I should, uh—I should change. I’m still soaked.”

I turned toward my room.

But my foot caught the towel.

One second I was standing.

The next—I was falling.

Straight onto Carter.

Not just onto him.

Onto his lap.

Hard.

Chest to chest. My hand gripped his shoulder. My thigh pressed right between his legs.

And I felt it.

I felt everything.

He was hard.

I gasped.

My eyes went wide.

His hand moved to my waist without hesitation.

Holding me there.

I looked up at him, stunned, completely frozen.

His face didn’t change. But his voice dropped lower than I’d ever heard it.

“If you wanted to sit on it,” he said, tone calm as sin, “you could’ve just asked.”