Page 54 of Unbound
Then—
Jesse jerked back as if electrocuted, his chair scraping loudly as he stood. Papers scattered as he grabbed at them with unsteady hands, his movements frantic.
"We should—I should go." His voice cracked halfway through the sentence. When he glanced up, his eyes were fever-bright. "It's getting late."
But even as he said it, his gaze kept snagging on me—darting to my lips, my hands, the exposed sliver of collarbone where my top button was undone. Every look was loaded with the same desperate want that had me gripping the edge of the table to keep from following him out the door.
When he finally met my eyes properly, whatever he saw there made him still. His expression flickered between awe and terror before settling into something heartbreakingly open.
"Was that okay?" he asked softly. The question wasn't about legal arguments anymore.
My chest ached. Jesse Miller, who had spent his whole life being told people like me were abominations, had just pleaded our humanity with more eloquence than I could muster on my best day—and now he was staring at me like I held the key to his salvation.
"You're going to be an incredible lawyer," I said, struggling to keep my voice even.
His smile emerged slow and sweet, transforming his face. And Christ, I was done for.
Because this wasn't just chemistry anymore. It wasn't even just attraction. Watching Jesse blossom like this—watching the man he was meant to be break through years of repression—was rewriting something fundamental in me.
Here was a person who had every reason to hate me, and instead he looked at me like I'd hung the goddamn moon.
And the terrifying part?
I wanted to deserve it.
12
JESSE
The morning of the debate, I woke before my alarm. Not because I was anxious—well, not entirely—but because something was buzzing beneath my skin. Anticipation coiled low in my stomach whenever I thought about seeing Adrian later, about standing beside him at that podium. About how close we'd been that night in the library, how for one dizzying moment I'd thought—but no, that wasn't why we were doing this.
Was it?
Even now, days later, my lips tingled with the memory of his breath hot against them, the way my entire body had leaned toward him before sense intervened. The debate was important. Constitutional law mattered. That's what I told myself as I straightened my tie with trembling fingers.
Yet the excitement remained, simmering just beneath my ribs.
I'd rehearsed our argument so many times that the words felt like mine now. Not Professor Okonkwo's assignment or Adrian's careful coaching, but something I believed. Something I wanted to say.
The realization should have terrified me. Instead, it felt like waking up.
I showered, dressed carefully in my best suit—the navy one Mother had bought me for church functions—and tried to ignore the way my hands trembled as I knotted my tie. This was just another academic exercise. A demonstration of intellectual flexibility. Nothing more.
My phone buzzed as I reached for my keys.
Rebecca:
Can't wait to see you today! Your parents and I will be in the third row ?? You're going to be amazing!
The world tilted sideways.
My parents. Here. Today.
I stared at the message, reading it twice, three times, hoping the words would change. They didn't.
With shaking fingers, I called Rebecca.
"Jesse!" Her voice was bright, excited. "I'm so proud of you. This is such a big opportunity."
