Chapter 7
Savannah
The library was the one place on campus where silence felt like a companion instead of a punishment.
Late afternoon light spilled through the tall windows in soft, patient beams, turning the dust in the air into floating constellations.
Law textbooks towered around me like architectural ruins, and I sat hunched over my white-collar case study, dissecting fraudulent intent like it could somehow give me clarity on my own life.
I'd reread the same paragraph five times now, but my mind refused to concentrate. My pen tapped against the page, tapping out the same restless rhythm pulsing behind my ribs.
Come on, Savannah, focus. Get it together. Get it—
My phone buzzed, and there was a flutter in my stomach when I saw his name splayed across the screen.
JAXON CAGE
Of course. As if I need any more distractions, I thought as I exhaled and rolled my shoulders back.
JAXON
Trouble, what are you up to?
I looked at the message for a few minutes, half debating if I should reply or not.
But I also had a feeling if I didn't respond, he'd keep messaging until I did.
SAVANNAH
Studying.
Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?
JAXON
Nope.
Annoying you seems to be my favorite pastime now.
Where are you?
My right eye twitched.
SAVANNAH
Campus library.
JAXON
Of course you are.
Don't you ever do anything else?
I stared at the screen—at the audacity of this man—with a deep scowl. He kept giving me reasons not to want to continue with this little arrangement.
SAVANNAH
I do plenty!
Excuse me if I have more than half a brain cell and enjoy studying.
JAXON
You enjoy the peace of that library more than studying
My lips parted, then snapped shut. He wasn’t wrong… which annoyed me even more.
SAVANNAH
What do you want, Jaxon?
I put the phone down, going back to the law review, when it buzzed again. His reply came instantly.
JAXON
A little someone left a questionnaire with the contract
Overkill btw
SAVANNAH
Those questions are important.
What if people start asking questions?
We should at least know the basics.
JAXON
Well then you can reward yourself for being the reason I'm texting you
My eyes rolled.
SAVANNAH
Fantastic.
JAXON
There you go, I knew you'd be happy
I sighed and tossed the phone again, but another message came in.
JAXON
Birthday, when is it?
I bit my lip, mulling over the choice of going down this rabbit hole with him.
Logically, this was just part of the question sheet, and tidbits about ourselves like this one would help our relationship.
Your boyfriend has to know your birthday, Sav.
But the emotional side also didn't want to divulge too much because he'd be gone after this wedding.
SAVANNAH
January 7.
JAXON
Nice.
Mine’s Nov 14.
(lucky you. 4 days to figure out a gift)
I choked on air.
SAVANNAH
I'm not getting you anything.
JAXON
Girlfriends get boyfriends gifts for their birthday
Unless I'm going to be rewarded in other ways ??
I blinked at the smirking emoji he sent with that, making it pretty evident what he really meant. Unwarranted images flashed across my mind and heat crawled up my neck.
My reply must've taken too long, because he shot off another text.
JAXON
Relax, just a little joke.
Favorite color?
SAVANNAH
White. Or dark blue.
Let me guess, yours is black like your soul
JAXON
I do look good in black
But no, it's red.
My lips twitched.
JAXON
What's your coffee order?
I furrowed my brows. That one wasn't in the list of questions… at least, I couldn't remember if it was.
SAVANNAH
Anything with cinnamon.
Usually a cinnamon latte with whipped cream.
JAXON
Cute.
Black. Dark roast. No sugar.
Of course he drank battery acid.
The conversation wandered effortlessly between us; we talked about favorite foods, favorite seasons, hobbies—little things couples would naturally know.
I hated how easy it was. Responding to him became a reflex, how my fingers hovered waiting for the next text while the books scattered around me became a lost memory.
JAXON
You said you go to Kingsview right?
Haven't been on campus in a while.
My brows knitted.
SAVANNAH
…you went to Kingsview?
JAXON
Don't sound so shocked.
Was there for a year then dropped out.
Family stuff.
SAVANNAH
So you do have a brain somewhere in there.
His reply didn’t come this time. Instead, a low voice brushed the shell of my ear from behind.
“Yes, trouble, I do.”
My heart jumped so violently, I nearly knocked over my casebook. I snapped my head up, pulse hammering.
And there he was.
Jaxon Cage.
In black jeans, a dark hoodie, a shadow of stubble, and two coffee cups in hand, walking around me like he belonged in the one place I’d sworn he never would.
He took the seat across from me with an ease that made my pulse misfire, setting one cup in front of me. Then he nudged it closer with his knuckles.
“Cinnamon latte for you,” he drawled, raising his cup to salute me. “Dark roast for me.”
I blinked at him.
Then at the cup.
Heat crawled up my neck before I could kill it, and I could almost feel the tiny crack in my defensive wall. He bought me coffee. It shouldn't have mattered, but I was a sucker for small gestures like that.
And I could count on one hand the amount of times Chase did that for me.
Not that it mattered.
I lifted the cup and pretended to study it instead of the way his eyes were watching me like I was the only thing worth looking at. When it looked completely harmless, I brought it to my lips.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
“Mhm.” He leaned back, assessing the nearly empty library. “So. This is where you live.”
“Study,” I corrected. “The library feels like home.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I remember that much.”
My head snapped up.
His smirk faltered.
“You bringing up the past,” I said sharply, “doesn’t make forgiving you come any faster.”
His hands went up in surrender. “Last time. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“Okay, trouble. Criminal’s honor.”
Despite myself, a tiny laugh escaped me. He looked far too proud of pulling it out of me.
He waved a hand at the books on the table. “What's all this anyway?”
“I was doing a case study before you rudely interrupted,” I told him, taking another sip of the coffee before setting it down. “But you brought me this, so I'll let it drop.”
“Note to self, bring Savannah coffee anytime you piss her off. Got it.” He smirked.
“Already planning on making me mad isn't something to be proud of,” I countered, rolling my eyes and shifting my focus back to the books. “Now go away. I have a case to finish.”
“I like having a failsafe. You know, just in case. But if you would rather me think of other ways to—”
I threw my pen at him and he laughed too loud, dodging out the way. His reaction earned us an evil eye from the guy two tables down.
“Be quiet!” I scolded, my voice diving to a whisper.
Chuckling under his breath, he got up for my pen before handing it to me and taking his seat again.
“Don't you have better things to do? Go… draw a tattoo or something.”
“I just came from a client, actually. Figured since I was already on this side of the bridge, I'd see what mischief my girlfriend was up to.”
“This relationship will end sooner than you think if you get me kicked out of the library.”
“You won't get kicked out.”
“You don't know the librarian like I do.”
Mr. Downey has been at Kingsview for just over a year now, and he was as strict as they came when it came to orderly conduct. He reveled in peace and quiet, which was probably why I'd never had any issues with him.
“If you think I'm bad, you should go date him. See how well that goes for you.”
Then, mid-conversation, he tilted his head, studying me like he could hear the static inside my brain.
“What are you doing later?” he asked.
I blinked. “What?”
“What are you doing later?” he repeated, slower this time.
“I—why?” I asked, the question coming out flatter than I intended.
He took a lazy sip of his coffee, eyes locked on mine over the rim. “Because I’m asking you out.”
My stomach dropped. Not in a romantic way—more like an elevator free-falling.
“I have things to do,” I said quickly.
“Mhm.” He glanced at my open book, then back at me with a raised brow. “Like reread that same page fifteen more times?”
I shot him a glare sharp enough to decapitate a less arrogant man. “I was studying.”
“Name one thing you remember.”
“I—” My glare intensified, and he smirked at his triumph. “Go away. I have plans tonight, so no, I'm not going out with you.”
“You don’t have plans, Savannah.” He leaned forward, forearms braced on the table, voice dipping into something that felt like a dare. “You’re just scared of the idea of going out with me.”
I scoffed, even though the noise came out a little strangled. “I’m not scared.”
“Great,” he said with a slow, infuriating smile. “Then go out with me.”
There was a tone in his voice—a hook, a spark, a challenge—and God help me, it pulled at something deep in my chest.
He looked at me like he already knew how the night would end.
Like he knew I’d say yes and was just waiting for me to catch up.
Everything inside me knew that was a bad idea. Every red flag I’d neatly catalogued over the years unfurled at once:
He’s trouble.
He’s distracting.
He’s not safe for your heart.
You don’t need this.
You don’t want this.
But then he lifted one eyebrow—just one—like a dare, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on me.
And my stupid stomach tightened.
I dragged in a breath. “This is… a bad idea.”
His grin deepened. “Most fun things are.”
“Jaxon—”
“Say yes,” he murmured, leaning in. “Unless you’re scared of falling for me by the end of the night.”
I hated him.
I hated how he said it.
I hated even more how my pulse reacted.
I sat there, staring at him, feeling the library—the safest place I knew—start to tilt around us.
I should’ve said no.
I should’ve shut this down.
I should’ve been smart.
Instead—
“Fine,” I whispered.