Chapter 179

Chapter 179
Rainey's POV

Another two weeks since Professor Steven handed me that brutal schedule.

Two weeks since I'd properly seen Sunny.

My phone buzzed as I crossed the rain-soaked quad. Three missed calls. All him.

Shit.

Before I could call back, his name flashed across the screen again.

"Hey—"

"Where are you?" Not angry. Just... tired. "I've been looking everywhere."

"Just left Professor Steven's office. I'm heading to the law school—there's a mandatory seminar for the moot court competition and I'm already—"

"What about tonight?"

I pulled up my calendar, scrolling through the color-coded nightmare. "Can't. Project group meeting in the library. We're presenting tomorrow and—"

"Rainey."

The way he said my name made my chest tighten.

"I really have to go," I said quickly. "I'm gonna be late. I'll call you later, okay? Promise."

I hung up before he could respond.

---

Five hours later, I was buried in the library section.

The legal research area was tomb-quiet. I'd claimed the most remote corner, surrounded by walls of leather-bound law books that blocked me from view.

My noise-canceling headphones sealed me off completely. On my laptop, Professor Steven's lecture played—"Psychological Warfare in Cross-Examination." Third viewing. I was taking notes on every nuance.

Three casebooks lay open. Miranda v. Arizona. Gideon v. Wainwright. Terry v. Ohio. Yellow for key precedents. Pink for dissenting opinions. Green for procedure.

I reached for my water bottle, neck stiff from three hours hunched over—

Movement in my peripheral vision.

Sunny sat across from me.

I jumped, knee slamming the table. My highlighter went flying. I yanked off one headphone.

"Jesus Christ!" I hissed. "How did you even get in here?"

"Told the attendant I was tutoring my student." A small smile.

My face heated. "You can't just—"

But he wasn't listening. His gaze had fixed on my laptop screen—Professor Steven's frozen face mid-gesture.

Fine. If he wanted to sit there, I'd ignore him.

I pulled my headphone back on and hit play. Forced my eyes to the screen.

But I couldn't concentrate.

I felt him watching. Every movement—reaching for my highlighter, turning a page, tucking hair behind my ear.

After five minutes of pretending, I gave up.

I paused the video and pulled off both headphones.

"What?"

He studied me. "You look like shit."

"Thanks."

"When did you last sleep more than five hours?"

I didn't answer.

His jaw tightened. "The rain stopped. There's a new jellyfish exhibit at the aquarium. We could—"

"I can't." Too quick. Too sharp. "I still need to prep for tomorrow's graduate seminar. Professor Steven wants me auditing classical English lit—says it'll improve my legal writing for moot court."

Concern flickered across his face. "What else?"

I pulled out my phone, turned the screen toward him. Every day blocked in fifteen-minute intervals. Color-coded. Blue for classes. Red for study. Green for competitions. Purple for Professor Steven's meetings.

Almost no white space.

"After lit seminar, there's the International Criminal Court moot court prelims next week." I scrolled down. "Philip C. Jessup case analysis due the week after. Then—"

"Rainey." Gentle. "That's insane."

"I know. But Professor Steven says I need it. Says my theory's solid but I have zero practical experience compared to prep school kids. I need competitions to catch up."

Sunny reached across the table and covered my hand—the one gripping my phone.

"We haven't really talked in four days."

Guilt crashed over me. "I know—"

"Every video chat lasts maybe five minutes before you have to go. 'I need to study.' 'I have to prep.' Then the screen goes black." His thumb traced circles on my hand. "You know what that feels like?"

My throat closed up. "Sunny..."

"Even your roommates never see you. Ava texted me yesterday. Said you're like a ghost."

I hadn't known he was talking to them. Or that they were worried enough to reach out.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I really am. I've been living in the library or Professor Steven's office. I lose track of time. I don't mean to shut you out. It's just I'm starting from scratch."

His grip tightened. "You're not starting from scratch."

"Compared to them I am." My voice cracked. "You know what it's like? Sitting in seminars and realizing everyone already knows all this? They've been having these conversations, reading these cases, competing since they were fourteen. While I was in Beacon Hills."

Sunny moved around the table, pulling the chair next to mine. Close enough our knees touched.

"I know," he said quietly. "Maybe not exactly, but... I know what it feels like to drown while everyone else swims."

I looked at him—really looked—and saw shadows under his eyes. Tension in his jaw.

"Just give me a little more time." I turned my hand so our fingers laced together. "Let me get through this first wave. Then proper dates. Normal couple stuff. Promise."

"When?" Gentle but persistent. "What does 'a little more time' actually mean?"

I bit my lip. "Winter break?"

His face fell.

"I know that's months away—"

Without thinking, I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. That familiar gesture that always calmed him.

His eyes fluttered closed. When they opened, they were darker. Heated.

He caught my hand and brought it to his lips. Pressed a slow kiss into my palm. Warmth spread up my arm.

"I'm not blaming you," he murmured against my skin. "I just miss you. And I'm worried you're gonna burn out."

"I won't."

"You sure?" His thumb traced my wrist bones. "Four hours of sleep a night? Skipping meals? You can't keep this up."

"I know my limits."

"I hope so." He lowered my hand but didn't let go. "Because I need you okay. Actually here, not just physically present but mentally checked out."

The library corner felt suddenly very small. Very private.

Sunny's gaze dropped to my lips. Back to my eyes.

"You know," he said, voice dropping to that dangerous register, "since proper dates are postponed till winter break... don't you think you owe me something? Compensation to tide me over?"

Heat flooded my face. "Sunny—"

"What?" Teasing. Predatory. "If I have to wait months, maybe you could give me something now. In advance."

"We're in a library!" I glanced around nervously. "People could—"

"Could they?" He leaned closer. "We're pretty hidden. And it's Thursday afternoon. Grad students are either in class or passed out."

My heart hammered. "This is completely inappropriate—"

"Mm-hmm." His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my face. Making me meet his eyes. "Know what else is inappropriate? Making your boyfriend go four days without seeing you. Without touching you."

"I didn't mean to—"

"I know." His thumb brushed my lower lip. I shivered. "Doesn't change the fact I've been going crazy. Wanting to see you. Be near you."

He leaned in. For a heart-stopping moment I thought he'd kiss me right there.

But he stopped just short, lips hovering a breath away.

"Come with me," he whispered.

"Where?" Embarrassingly breathless.

"I know a place. No people. No eyes." His thumb traced my jaw. "Just us."

My pulse raced. "Where?"

His smile was slow. Devastating.

"My office."

"YOUR OFFICE?"