The Final Plea

Prologue

I was one orgasm away from burning this apartment to the ground.

Not mine, obviously.

No, I was the one sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by case briefs, caffeine, and the crumbled remains of my sanity.

Whereas my older brother, Trey, and my best friend, Kate, were enjoying themselves in our living room.

The worst part?

They weren't even subtle about it.

Moans, giggles, heavy breathing.

I swear I was going insane here.

I gritted my teeth and highlight negligence like I was carving it into stone.

"You guys," I snapped, loud enough to cut through their distracting noises. "Some people are trying to study here."

A breathless laugh escaped Kate's lips. "Sorry."

"I'm not," Trey rudely added. "Study in your room, brat."

"Why don't you go make out in yours?" I snapped.

He shrugged before returning his face to Kate's neck like I'm some kind of background noise.

I stared down at my textbook, the lines of legal jargon not making any sense to me as Kate and Trey rudely continued on.

I quickly slammed my textbook shut before throwing everything into my bag.

I didn't even bother to look at them as I stormed to the door.

"Where are you going?" Kate called after me, like she didn't just contribute to my mental breakdown.

"Somewhere sane," I muttered before slamming the door behind me.

By the time I made it to the street, the cold slapped me and I realized I should've picked up my coat on the way out.

However, I refused to go back to that apartment.

Just great.

I was now pissed AND cold.

I wrapped my arms around my torso and pushed through the crowd of people who all seemed to be walking slower just to piss me off even more.

Fifteen minutes, one near-death New York cab encounter, and a coffee shop later, I finally made it to the steps of Columbia Law's library.

I was surprised that my ass hadn't frozen to death as yet.

The campus was quieter than I expected for a Monday night, but I couldn't have cared less.

The crisp air continued to bite my skin like it knew exactly how over it I was.

I angrily stomped up the stairs, already imaging the warm, peaceful corner I'd find in the library, where I could escape from everything and just focus on Tort law.

I quickly reached to the doors and yanked on the handle.

Locked.

I blinked before staring at the handwritten sign taped to the glass:

Closed for maintenance. Please use alternate space.

I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the cool glass as I felt a wave of frustration wash over me.

Of course the library is closed.

Of course it would happen today, when I was on the verge of losing my mind and drowning in law school stress.

I had barely slept the night before, but I needed this.

I just needed some quiet.

I just needed to pass tomorrow's exam.

I let out a quiet groan, feeling like shit.

Just when I thought I was starting to get a grip, life had to go throw me a curveball.

"I'm going to die," I mumbled to myself.

"No, you're not. They're opening it in twenty minutes," a deep voice suddenly said.

I jumped, spinning around to see the source of the voice.

He was tall, well put-together, wearing a dark, tailored coat that probably cost more than my rent.

His expression was cold, unreadable, and he stood with the kind of confidence that made him seem untouchable.

I narrowed my eyes, taking him in. "What?"

He pointed his index finger beside me to a second note on the glass.

Will open at 10pm.

I blinked, staring at the note for a second longer than I should have.

"So...why didn't they just, I don't know, put that on the first one?" I muttered, still feeling a sting of irritation.

His gaze flickered briefly to the sign, then to me. "Apparently, it's more important to make people guess."

"Great, just what I needed," I said, moving further into the corner to avoid the coldness. "Thanks for the tip, I guess."

He didn't respond right away.

Instead, his eyes lingered on me for a beat too long, cold and calculating, as though evaluating me.

"You seem...frustrated," he observed, like it was a scientific fact.

I blinked. "You think?"

"Just stating the obvious," he said, his voice flat.

No sympathy there, no attempt at easing the tension.

Just cold, hard observation.

I shook my head, pushing down my annoyance.

"It's been a rough day," I explained. "No, a rough week."

"Actually a rough semester," I concluded.

"Law school will do it for you," he simply said.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself as the cold air continued to torture me.

"What year are you?" I asked, trying not to shiver.

"Third," he calmly said, his eyes still on the sign.

Of course he was a 3L.

I nodded, pretending his answer didn't rattle me. "Of course you are."

His eyes finally flickered to me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not a first year who's probably going to fail their exam tomorrow," I said, remembering the lack of progress I made at the apartment.

"You'll do great," he assumed. "You seem like a good student."

I stared at him in disbelief.

Before I could say anything else, he shrugged off his coat.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he held it out.

"You're cold."

"I'm fine."

"You're shivering."

I was. Damn it.

"I'm fine," I repeated.

He didn't argue.

Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped it gently around my shoulders.

It was heavy and warm and smelled like him.

Clean, expensive, and maddeningly composed.

"I said I was fine," I muttered, avoiding eye contact as he stared into my soul.

"You're bad at lying," he acknowledged. "You're going to want to fix that if you want to be a believable lawyer."

I scoffed, still looking away. "I don't need you saving me."

"I wasn't trying to," he calmly answered.

I shook my head, arms still wrapped tightly around myself. "Then why-"

"Because you were clearly shivering," he interrupted. "And I gave you my coat. So, you can stop being rude now and say thank you."

I hesitated.

The words burned my tongue, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

I finally turned to face him, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

They were grey.

Captivating.

"Thank you," I muttered, as I quickly stopped staring at him like a mad woman.

His gaze suddenly softened for a brief moment before he took a step closer.

He then adjusted the coat around my shoulders, pulling it tighter like he had every right.

His hands brushed my arms as he tightened the fabric, and I couldn't help but feel a strange warmth, more from his unexpected attention than the coat itself.

"You're still cold," he said, almost as if he were concerned...almost.

I didn't let the warmth of his words settle.

My arms stayed folded, his coat draped over me, but it didn't stop me from feeling that annoying knot in my stomach.

I slowly looked up again, forcing myself to meet his gaze again.

His eyes were so intriguing.

I've never seen someone with naturally grey eyes; that's if his were natural.

I couldn't look away.

The longer I stared, the more I felt that knot.

Before I could say anything, the soft jingle of the keys broke the moment.

A staff member approached the door, yawning as she dug through her ring of keys. "Sorry for the delay. Library's open now."

He moved first, stepping toward the door, pretending as if he hadn't wrapped me in his coat and read my mood like a book.

"Wait," I said, and it came out softer than I expected.

He paused, looking back over his shoulder, that unreadable expression returning.

"What's your name?" I asked, unsure why my voice sounded more vulnerable than I liked.

His gaze lingered on mine for a while. "Nathaniel."

I slowly nodded.

Nathaniel...got it.

"I'm Naomi."

His lips curved slightly. "I know."

I blinked, feeling extremely confused. "How?"

He opened the door, holding it without answering at first.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he replied. "I'm your TA."

And with that, he stepped inside.

Leaving me standing in the cold, wrapped in his coat, questioning how the hell I'd never noticed him before.