Page 16 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

Never let them see you sweat, my father always said. I took a deep breath before speaking.

“Did I do something to you?” I asked. “You’ll have to remind me, so I can be properly sorry about it.” Shit. That came out much snarkier than I meant it to.

He sauntered slowly around the bench until he stood directly in front of me, arms still crossed across his chest, buttons pulling on his shirt.

“Not to me, no.”

“So, I did something to someone else? A friend?” I doubted it—I’d been friendly and popular in school—but it was possible I had made a misstep at some point. Nobody was perfect.

“No.”

I leaned forward, head tilted back so I could look up at him.

“Then, what is your problem?” My voice was tinged with more exasperation than I preferred.

“My problem is nepotism.” I sucked in a sharp breath, and he continued. “We don’t all have the luxury of Daddy picking up the phone and buying a job most people spend their whole career working toward. And only two months after getting your fancy degree? Did Daddy pay for that too? Some of us had to grind our whole life to get where we are.”

I slid off the desk and circled behind it, partly so he wouldn’t see me scowl and partly to give me a minute to process all the bullshit he just spouted. He was half right. My parents had paid for my tuition, though, the coursework was all me. But Cooper was dead wrong about the job—they had nothing to do with this.

“So, that’s it, then,” I said. “Jealousy. Misplaced jealousy, I might add.” My voice sounded calmer and more controlled, which was a relief.

“Misplaced?” he replied, incredulously.

“Yes. Misplaced.”

He stepped forward, placing his hands on the desk and leaning toward me.

“So, that’s not your name on the library?”

Fuck you was on the tip of my tongue, and I just barely managed to bite the words back. Instead, I mirrored his position with my hands on the desk, closing the distance between us, and staring down my nose at him—which was quite a challenge with someone so much taller than me.

“My name had nothing to do with any of my achievements. Not sports, not grades, and certainly not this job.”

“Bullshit.”

Rage crackled through my nerves like electricity.

“I was on the student council because my peers respected me. I applied and got into Columbia on my own. I graduated summa cum laude because I studied my ass off. I’m here because I fucking earned it. And not that it’s any of your business, but I barely talk to my parents.”

“That might be true to an extent,” he challenged. “But you can’t deny that being a Burke didn’t give you a leg up. People fell at your feet without you having to lift a finger.”

“They did not—”

“And then what? You used their heads as stepping stones on your way to the top—”

“Stop!” I shouted and slammed my palms on the desktop. “Just stop!” My breaths were coming in ragged pants, and I was becoming lightheaded.

“Do you deny it?”

His brows were drawn in a hard line. I saw the briefest glimpse of the boy he had been more than a decade ago. And I saw myself as he saw me reflected in his eyes.

Privileged and popular and nauseatingly perfect.

“No,” I breathed, as the air left my sails. “No, but I still have a right to be here.”

Cooper shook his head, dark hair swishing across his forehead. “You just don’t quit. News flash, Princess—most people work their ass off in school. But, then what? You came straight here? I’ve spent the last six years teaching at a Title I school, and that is more of an education than you can buy at any university. I put in the time—the work—to learn how to actually get through to kids.”

“I know how to get through to people. I was a bartender—”