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“You’re desperate and you’re an idiot, but that’s not going to change my mind,” I said, fighting the urge to call him something worse than an idiot. “You got yourself caught up in a dangerous scheme, and I won’t touch anything like that. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere near me, because that corruption is gonna rub off and I don’t want to get any of it on my hands.”

I closed the door in his face, and I wanted to return to the movie I was watching, but I was drawn to the window instead. Rain lightly started falling, but Trace hadn’t moved out from beneath my porch light. His wet hair clung to his face, and mist escaped from his lips, but he stood firm, knowing there was nowhere else he could hide from the elements.

My little slice of heaven was a converted garage behind the campus security house. There was no hangover roof or even a patio for him to hang out on. It was a crushing sight, but I promised myself that I wouldn’t budge. There was no way I was letting him in, and I wasn’t going to help him out of this mess either. And that was final.

I didn’t owe him anything, and he knew that, so why he was asking for my help was beyond me.

So I pulled my curtains closed and forced myself to go to my kitchenette to make some popcorn. Today felt like the perfect day to watch horror movies because it would just be a continuation of what was already happening. I wondered if there were any football-related slasher movies because that would be a perfect fit.

My popcorn was about halfway through when the rain began to pour. My guilt shot to a new high, and I peeked out of the window again, hoping that he had left. At first, a sense of relief washed over me, but then my eyes dropped, and I saw him sitting in front of my door with his backpack cradled on his lap. The sight was crushing, so I pulled the door open again.

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to help?” I asked, shoving my head out just enough for my voice to carry.

He shrugged but didn’t look up. “I don’t really have anyone who’ll help. I can’t ask the team because when they invited me out the other night I told them I was done studying.”

“We aren’t friends, Trace. You’re just the focal point of the paper I work for, and I’m an annoyance you wish you could be rid of.”

He laughed softly to himself and hung his head. It took a few beats before he looked at me again. “You’re the only one who knows the truth about me and what I’m facing, which also means you’re the only one I can turn to. I don’t know what else to do, Dakota. If I fail this exam, it’s all over.”

I cursed under my breath. How did he always manage to do these kinds of things to me? I was a journalist, and we were objectively distant for a reason, but Trace Prescott tore down my defenses every single time. It was so damn infuriating, but I didn’t know how to make it stop.

“Give me the answer sheet you got from the TA,” I said, holding out my hand expectantly.

He finally looked up, but he was still reserved. Those big puppy eyes looked up at me with the most vulnerability I had ever seen in a man, and I instantly melted. It was the kind of look that would have the strongest of women dropping their panties, and the wet face and clingy hair didn’t help my resistance at all. But Trace didn’t move, and I could see that he was looking for a way to get out of the situation.

“Don’t even think about denying its existence or lying to me. I saw him give it to you, and I’m tired of beating around the bush with this topic. If you want my help, give me the damn paper.”

Trace pulled the sheet out of his bag and handed it to me, but the second I laid eyes on the answers, my entire mood changed. The pain in my heart ignited into a blazing inferno of rage, and it made my entire attitude toward him shift. With resolve of steel, I leaned into the house, grabbed a candle and set the thing on fire right in front of him. Trace winced, but he didn’t protest. He just sat there, watching it burn with me, and that was when I knew he was completely serious. The problem was that I was already in bitch mode and I couldn’t just switch it off.

“There… I helped. Now get lost and don’t be stupid enough to come back.”

The words came out a lot harsher than I’d meant them to. It was so bad that they actually made Trace flinch. But I knew I couldn’t back down now. He said he needed help, and I knew the only way a man like him would see the truth was if they failed.

Trace was about halfway down the road when he turned back and said, “If you publish any of this, my life will be over.”

“That’s your problem. Not mine,” I said, and it was a miracle that my voice didn’t crack because it sure as hell wanted to.

*

It had been over an hour since Trace wandered off into the darkness, and I couldn’t focus to save my own life. I made it ten minutes into my movie before throwing the remote at the screen and storming to my room. I thought reading would help, but that didn’t last too long either, and sleeping was the worst idea I had all night because it just led to me tossing and turning while my mind lingered on Trace.

Why had I been so restless after he left? Why was I so worried about him and his future if he couldn’t even bother to give me the time of day? Was he actually studying, or had he resigned himself to his fate and accepted that he was going to fail his exam? Was he okay? Why did he look so distraught when he left? Was I really his only hope?

“Fuuuuck!” I screamed into my pillow.

There was no way I was going to be able to let this go. I tried and failed countless times already, but this man had an effect on me that I couldn’t ignore, and it had nothing to do with his sisters and their hopes for a future.

I dragged my ass out of bed and threw on a sweatsuit. Trace had to be somewhere out there, and I would look until I found him because I wouldn’t be able to rest if I didn’t.

I wandered aimlessly for a good while because I had no idea where to start. I didn’t know where his dorm was, and I wasn’t even sure he had gone back there either. He probably tried that already, but roommates didn’t work for everyone. I would know. So I took a risk and headed for the library. It was a long shot, but it was the only one I had.

I pushed the door aside and let out a relieved breath. Trace was seated right at the front, and he was alone except for the books that were scattered around him. His hair had dried out, and he had changed into a sweater, but he still didn’t look comfortable. Stress lines marred his usually firm skin, and his eyes were red with the strain he was putting on them. He was really struggling, and that was how I knew he was telling the truth about his intentions.

“Do you have room for one more?” I asked as I approached him, but he didn’t even bother to look up.

“This is my problem, remember? Not yours, so please give me some space so I can at least try to get somewhere, because right now I’m just staring at jumbled letters on a page.”

A hint of annoyance flared in my chest, and I shoved his books aside. One fell to the ground and finally his eyes met mine. He looked even worse than he did when he was sitting outside my door, and once again it tugged at every single one of my heartstrings. There was something about his vulnerability that made me fold every time, and at first it annoyed the life out of me, but now…