Page 17 of Loving the Liar

It’s too early, but I’m already dying to mention to Luke that I want to change major again. I wonder if my dad’s death will give me that option. Initially, it was my brother’s idea to put me in law. The second he told that to my father, my fate was sealed. But unlike my dad, Luke didn’t do it to hurt me or control me. He did it because he was too scared I’d have no future and end up as a Shadow’s wife. He wanted me to have some sort of independence from the Circle, so I would be protected and never have to rely on them. That’s why he’s so desperate to find a solution that doesn’t include marrying me into the society.

My stomach is painfully clenched by the time Professor Reeves enters the small room.

This is not a big college amphitheater welcoming any student who wants to attend his class. This is elite education by a sought-after professional who teaches two classes a week to the smartest undergrads who know they want to get into law school. I must stay in his class until the end of undergrad if I ever want to achieve the right score on my LSATs.

There are over fifty of us right now, but it’s highly possible there will only be forty or less in two weeks. And I’ve got to be part of them no matter what.

I can’t believe sex only bought me two weeks.

“Welcome back,” he says flatly as he walks to the front of the class. “It’s nice to see a few of you made it to another year with me. Congratulations.”

His eyes scan the class, and the second he sees me, the corner of his mouth tips up. Worse, when he sees the girl three spots away from me, that same smile comes back. I snap my head to the side, catching her blushing as she puts her hair behind her ears.

Holy shit. Holy fucking… I’m not the only one. What an asshole.

Putting his bag on the desk, he pulls out some documents he printed and holds the stack in his hand before walking to the front and leaning back against it.

“Before we start, I’d like to introduce you to this year’s assistants. Yes, assistants. You heard that right. While I usually hire one person from second or third year of law school, you’d do yourself a favor learning now that if you’re the best, it pays. This first year has worked hard, and she deserves her spot on my team. My second assistant is a second-year transfer, and he’s been highly recommended by his professors at Yale. I’m pleased to introduce you to Rose White and Christopher Murray.”

For a second, the reality of the situation doesn’t even register. Because fate can’t be that cruel…right?

But then I turn around at the same time as the other students because, just like them, I hadn’t noticed the two people standing at the back by the door. My heart is beating so hard it could break my rib cage. I feel the blood draining from my face as they walk past me, only to stop when they’re by Reeves. I have to blink multiple times. I’m in such shock I can barely feel my limbs.

He transferred to SFU.

“As you know, my assistants don’t spend much time in my undergraduate classes; however, since I have double the staff this year, you are welcome to contact either of them to help with your work. One will always be present during my office hours and both are more than capable to help you.” He keeps talking about them being in today’s class since it’s his first class of the year…something else…I don’t know.

I want to run away. I need to leave this room because I can barely breathe in it. But I can’t leave Reeves’s class. I would never be allowed to come back. I don’t even think my legs would hold me anyway.

I keep my eyes glued to my notebook for his whole speech while he talks about the first case he wants us to look at. I write words I barely register. I don’t think anything I take down has meaning. My writing is shaky, my hand trembling. I’m scared I’ll faint any second now. But under no circumstance can I look up at Chris.

That’s until I feel his presence right by me. And I can’t avoid it anymore. I know it’s him distributing the printed document and putting one on my desk because I smell his delicious cologne too close to me.

Sweet orange and cedar wood.

Shit. Shit.

He smells so good.

One of my hands is so tightly closed into a fist, I’m unsure I’ll ever be able to open it again. This is too much.

I think I’m near hyperventilation when I look up, my face feeling numb and my pulse thundering in my ears.

He acknowledges me so simply. Nothing on his face or in his eyes. While he’s walking to the next student and the paper is set on my desk, his hand lingers until his fingertips almost hold on to it before releasing. Then he drops his arm back by his side like nothing happened.

Of course, nothing happened to the outside eye. And yet mine are stuck where his fingers just were, my heart threatening to explode.

Such a terrifying reaction to a delicate gesture.

I feel his eyes on me during the rest of the class. Nothing of what Reeves says absorbs, and I’ve probably read the sentence I’m looking at about ten times by the time I feel a strong presence stop in front of my desk, unmoving.

“Miss Baker.”

My head snaps up at Reeves’s stern voice. That’s when I realize everyone else is gone.

“Class has ended.”

Behind Reeves, standing by his desk, both Rose and Chris are looking at me. Rose’s head is tilted to the side, confused. I look back at Reeves before I can analyze what Chris’s pinched eyebrows mean. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know anything.

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