I Thought It Was Just One Night

Summer ended too quickly, like it always did. The carefree nights at Pulse gave way to lecture halls and textbooks as I stepped onto campus for my junior year. The familiar buzz of excitement from freshmen contrasted sharply with my own indifference. University was just another place to exist—nothing more, nothing less.

I'd chosen a particularly daring outfit for the first day: a crimson crop top that revealed just enough midriff, paired with high-waisted black jeans that hugged every curve. My dark hair fell in loose waves past my shoulders, and I'd completed the look with winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass.

The stares followed me as I strode down the hallway toward Advanced Economics. I felt them like phantom touches against my skin—hungry, curious, judgmental. None of them mattered. I'd learned long ago that desire was currency, but I controlled the exchange rate.

I slid into a seat near the back of the lecture hall, crossing my legs and pulling out my notebook with practiced nonchalance. Professor Winters was already droning on about the syllabus when the door opened, causing a ripple of whispers to sweep through the room.

"Ah, perfect timing," Winters said, his monotone voice suddenly animated. "Class, I'd like to introduce our transfer student from Blackwood University."

I didn't bother looking up until the collective intake of breath from the female population forced my curiosity. When I finally raised my eyes, the notebook slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.

Jace Carter.

He stood at the front of the class, golden hair perfectly styled, his broad shoulders encased in a tailored charcoal suit that screamed money and power. He looked older, more refined than the man I'd left in that hotel room a year ago. His jawline seemed sharper, his presence more commanding.

But those eyes—those burning, intense eyes—were unmistakable.

"Mr. Carter will be joining us for his final year," Professor Winters continued, oblivious to my internal meltdown. "He comes highly recommended and has already secured an impressive internship with Sterling Financial."

Jace nodded politely at the introduction, his gaze sweeping the room with casual authority. Girls straightened in their seats, flipping hair and adjusting clothing. Even some of the guys looked impressed.

I remained perfectly still, my face a carefully constructed mask of indifference. Just another man. They were all the same—disposable and ultimately disappointing.

"There's an empty seat next to Ms. York," Professor Winters pointed in my direction.

The universe truly had a sick sense of humor.

Jace's eyes locked with mine for the first time, and I expected... something. Recognition. Anger. Desire. Instead, his expression remained perfectly controlled as he made his way up the steps toward me.

He moved with the fluid grace of a predator, unhurried yet purposeful. Each step brought him closer, and I felt an inexplicable tightness in my chest that I refused to acknowledge.

"Hello," he said quietly as he took the seat beside me, his voice deeper than I remembered. "I'm Jace."

He was introducing himself as if we'd never met. As if I hadn't left him with money on a nightstand like some cheap transaction.

"Lynn," I replied flatly, not offering my hand or a smile.

He nodded, a slight curve to his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. Those eyes... there was something different about them now. Still intense, still burning, but with a controlled stillness that hadn't been there before. Like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"It's nice to meet you, Lynn," he said, the lie sliding smoothly from his tongue.

I turned my attention back to Professor Winters, determined to ignore the electricity crackling in the air between us. But I couldn't shake the feeling of Jace's presence beside me—the subtle scent of his cologne, the controlled rhythm of his breathing, the way he seemed to take up more space than his physical form should allow.

Something about him felt dangerous now in a way that had nothing to do with attraction. As if everything—his polite smile, his calm demeanor, his apparent lack of recognition—was carefully calculated.

I'd spent my life keeping men at a distance, using them before they could use me. But sitting next to Jace Carter, I couldn't escape the unsettling feeling that for once, I wasn't the one in control of the game.