“Cooper v. Aaron reaffirmed the Supreme Court’s role as the final arbiter of constitutional interpretation, emphasizing that its decisions are binding on...”
Binding on what? I'd read the same sentence four times and still couldn't remember how it ended.
I sighed, pushing away from my desk and rubbing my eyes. The law library was quiet except for the occasional rustle of pages and soft tapping of keyboards. Everyone around me was deep in concentration, highlighting texts and typing notes with the focused intensity of people whose futures depended on memorizing the minutiae of two-hundred-year-old court cases.
Which mine did too. Or it should have.
Instead, my mind kept drifting to dark eyes and a voice like aged whiskey. To the way he'd said my name—Grace—like he'd been tasting it on his tongue. To the electric awareness that had hummed beneath my skin when he looked at me.
Someone who sees you.
Three days had passed since the night at Tenebris, and I still couldn't shake him from my thoughts. It was ridiculous. Pathetic, even. He was just a man—probably some rich playboy who got off on intimidating women in clubs. The fact that he knew my name meant nothing. The O'Sullivan family was well-known in Boston; it wouldn't take much digging to identify me.
I should have been concerned. Should have told my father or brothers that a stranger had approached me, known my name. Should have at least mentioned it to Connor.
But I hadn't. I'd kept the encounter to myself, replaying it in my mind like a favorite scene from a movie, analyzing every word, every look, every sensation.
"Earth to Grace. Come in, Grace."
I startled, looking up to find Lila standing over me, an amused expression on her face.
"Sorry," I said, straightening in my chair. "Just lost in thought."
"Must be some thoughts." She dropped into the chair across from me, earning a glare from a nearby student. "You've been staring at the same page for ten minutes. I've been watching you."
I closed my laptop, knowing I wasn't going to get any more work done. "Just tired. I didn't sleep well last night."
That, at least, was true. I'd lain awake until 3 AM, staring at my ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of a man whose name I didn't even know.
"Hmm." Lila studied me, her head tilted. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the mysterious stranger you were talking to at Tenebris, would it?"
Heat crept up my neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please. I may have been drunk, but I wasn't blind. Tall, dark, and dangerous-looking? Standing way too close to you in the courtyard?" She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Spill."
"There's nothing to spill. He was just some guy getting some air, same as me."
"Some guy who made you blush like a Victorian maiden." Lila's grin was knowing. "Did you at least get his number?"
"No," I admitted, feeling oddly disappointed by the fact. "We barely spoke."
"But you wanted to."
I didn't answer, which was answer enough.
Lila's expression softened. "Look, I'm all for a good mystery man fantasy, but just... be careful, okay? That club attracts a certain type."
"What type is that?"
"People who like power. People who like control." She shrugged, suddenly serious. "Not always the healthiest combination."
Coming from Lila, who'd dated her share of questionable men, the warning carried weight. But instead of making me more cautious, it only intensified my fascination. Power and control were currencies I understood all too well, growing up in the O'Sullivan household.
"I'm not planning to see him again," I said, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "It was just a weird moment in a weird night."
Lila didn't look convinced, but she let it drop. "Well, if you change your mind about seeing him, Tenebris is open again next full moon. Just saying."
She left soon after, off to a study group I suspected was more social than academic. I tried to return to my work, opening my laptop and staring at my half-written notes, but it was useless. My mind refused to focus on anything but him.
