Legally Not Yours

The Negotiation and Tension

POV: Leah

I hadn’t even made it through the gates when I saw him.

Jared Connors, lounging near the east wall like the universe had cast him in permanent spotlight. Arms folded, shirt sleeves rolled as usual, just enough to show off forearms and that god damn smirk.

I tried to walk past without a word, like I don’t know him. Let’s just ignore him.

“Leah,” he called, his voice smooth, casual, dangerous.

I didn’t stop, I tried to ignore him. Jared doesn’t exist and he’s just a ghost.

“Hey,” he repeated, now walking beside me, trying to keep up with my sudden fast pace. “You’re hard to catch these days.”

“Maybe I’m trying not to be caught.”

He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Unsuccessfully.”

I stopped walking and hissed at him, “What do you want now?”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a single folded page. Another damn contract. He held it out between two fingers like an invitation or a trap.

Jared looked at me, telling me to take it. “You’re joking, right?”

He smiled. “Not even a little.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re really doing this again?”

“This time, with improved terms,” he said. “Shorter duration. Clearer expectations.”

“Let me guess. I become your personal plaything, but only for a month this time.”

“Exactly,” he said, pleased. “And in return, I’ll fix your little problem.”

My stomach dropped. He didn’t need to say it. I knew exactly what he meant. He knew I wanted to clear my name and get my peace back.

“The slap and you choking me,” I said and he nodded.

“One conversation with the Professor will resolve things. I tell him we were play-fighting or maybe flirting, I can take the blame for you. Or we can say that we’re caught up in the moment, that we both prevent ourselves from jumping into each other. Boom—misunderstanding and he will let you go. Your record clears, your reputation recovers, and everyone stops treating you like the angry scholarship girl. People will certainly blame me, but news about me dies down quickly so you can live peacefully and maybe study more because people leave you alone.”

He sounded convincing, but somehow I doubt that. I stared at him. “And you haven’t told him that yet?”

“Nope.”

“Because I have to sign first.”

“Exactly. What a smart and beautiful girl,” he said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You keep saying that and it’s starting to bore me,” he said, stepping closer. “But you keep talking to me.”

“I’m only talking to you so I won't punch you again.”

“You wouldn’t risk your scholarship twice. You’re a good girl, you obey the rules effortlessly.”

I hated that he was right.

“You’re seriously holding my future hostage so I’ll play submissive for a month?”

“I’m offering you control,” he said, voice dipping. “You sign, you decide how this ends.”

He stepped closer and his hand brushed my wrist, just a light touch, but it felt like a fire alarm in my skin. I looked up to him and my breath got hitch.

His touch really burnt me and I found my body betraying me. I stiffened and he noticed. Of course he noticed it, he’s smirking confidently.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, voice low and pleased.

“It’s a disgust.” I bit back.

“It looks more like curiosity.” He let out a chuckle.

“I hate you, Connors.”

“You hate that you don’t hate me as much as you should, Rosewood.”

I stepped back, pulse racing. “You are the most arrogant, manipulative, power-drunk human I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re the only person who makes me… nevermind. So what now?” I should’ve walked away. But I was frozen in place.

Rage and heat boiling in me, almost reaching the surface.

“Why me?” I whispered.

He leaned in, so close I could feel his breath. “Think about it.”

Then he placed the contract gently into my hand — the paper smooth, too warm, too deliberate — and stepped back like he’d already won.

“You’ve got till next week. After that, I let your name bleed or maybe make it so much worse.”