Chapter 5 Bound by Assignment Contd.

That was when the doors opened again.

Sharon stepped in, clutching her bag like it weighed a hundred pounds. Her hair was slightly mussed, as though she'd rushed. She spotted him almost immediately-because he was impossible to miss-and her stomach tightened.

"You're late," Jake said as she walked over, his voice calm but his eyes sharp.

"Then you should've left," Sharon shot back, dropping her bag on the chair opposite him. "No one asked you to wait."

He smirked, leaning forward. "But I did. Which means you owe me an explanation."

She hesitated, then exhaled, her tone softer this time. "I had to go home. There was... an emergency with my family. I didn't plan to be late."

Jake blinked, the sharpness in his eyes dimming. "Home?"

Sharon nodded, fiddling with her pen. "It's complicated. But I'm here now, so let's just... get to it, okay?"

For once, Jake didn't push. The smirk slipped from his face, replaced by something steadier. "Fair enough."

Silence stretched as she pulled out her notebook, avoiding his gaze. The weight of what she'd just admitted hung between them, unspoken but heavy.

Finally, Jake tapped the blank sheet in front of him.

"Outline first, right?"

Her eyes lifted, surprised. He remembered.

And for the first time, sitting across from him, Sharon wondered if there was more to Jake Lawson than the world whispered about.

Sharon spread her notebook on the table, flipping to a clean page. "Alright. Professor Wallace said we should pick a project topic by the end of this week. I've got a few ideas."

Jake leaned back in his chair, arms crossed casually. "Let's hear them."

She hesitated, then began listing.

"We could do something on the effects of inflation on student spending. Or maybe entrepreneurship among undergraduates. It has to connect to everyday realities. Something relatable."

Jake tilted his head, unimpressed. "Safe options. They'll get you a pass, sure. But they won't stand out."

Her brows knit together. "Excuse me?"

"I'm saying," he leaned forward now, resting his arms on the table, "every other group will do the same tired topics-student budgets, campus businesses, all that. If we want top marks, we need something bigger. Something that matters outside these walls."

Sharon frowned but was listening. "Like what?"

Jake tapped a finger against the table. His eyes sharpened as he spoke, his voice shifting from casual to deliberate. "Think global. Economics isn't just about markets; it's about people. How about: The impact of foreign investment on emerging economies, using America as a case study?"

Sharon blinked. That wasn't what she expected.

Jake continued, warming up. "Look at the last decade-foreign direct investments have poured in, mostly from China, but also the U.S. and Europe. It's changed infrastructure, employment, even politics. But has it really helped the average person? Or just filled the pockets of the powerful?"

Her lips parted slightly. He wasn't just throwing random jargon-he actually sounded like he knew.

"You've thought this through," she murmured.

Jake smirked faintly. "What, surprised?"

"A little," she admitted.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to tease. "You thought I was just another spoiled kid passing by?"

Sharon looked down at her notebook to avoid his eyes. "...Maybe."

Jake chuckled but didn't push further. Instead, he said, "This topic will give us enough depth to impress Wallace. We can pull data from government reports, World Bank records, maybe even local interviews. It'll be more work, but the payoff's worth it."

Sharon found herself scribbling notes quickly, her hand keeping up with his flow. She caught herself sneaking a glance at him. There was no arrogance in his tone now, only focus-like this was a side of him he didn't show to many.

"So, foreign investment in America," she repeated, writing the title across the page.

Jake nodded. "Exactly. You'll handle the statistical analysis, since you're better at details. I'll take the theoretical framework and presentation. Trust me, Wallace eats that stuff up."

Sharon raised her head slowly, narrowing her eyes. "And what makes you so sure you're good at presentations?"

Jake's smirk returned, slow and deliberate. "Because people listen when I talk."

Her cheeks heated, though she masked it with a scoff. "Overconfidence doesn't count as a skill."

He leaned back, grinning. "Guess you'll see."

For a while, silence fell as Sharon wrote and Jake leaned over occasionally to point at her notes, suggesting subtopics: trade deficits, job creation, technology transfer. She challenged some of his points, and he countered with calm reasoning. To her own surprise, she enjoyed it. He was infuriating, yes-but also sharp, quick, and strangely... reliable.

When she finally closed her notebook, she realized an hour had slipped by unnoticed.

"This might actually work," she admitted reluctantly.

Jake smirked, pushing his chair back. "Told you. I'm not all talk, Walker."

For the first time since they were paired, Sharon allowed herself a small smile. It was fleeting, barely there, but Jake caught it. And it made his chest feel oddly lighter.

The library was unusually alive that evening. The hushed murmur of students, the rustle of turning pages, the occasional cough-it all folded into a quiet rhythm. Sharon's pen scratched across her notebook as Jake leaned back, watching her with a thoughtful expression that seemed out of place on him.

"So," Sharon said after a moment, her tone cautious. "You really think Professor Wallace will go for your foreign investment idea?"

Jake tilted his chair back slightly, balancing it on two legs with an ease that made her nervous. "Not think, know. Wallace loves anything that sounds big. The man practically salivates over the phrase 'macroeconomic impact.'"

Despite herself, Sharon chuckled. "You've been paying more attention in class than I thought."

Jake leaned forward again, his smirk softening.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't sleep through everything."

Her eyes flicked up, curious. "Then why the reputation?"

He shrugged, his gaze dropping briefly to the notes she was writing. "Let's just say people believe what they want to believe. And sometimes... it's easier to let them."

Sharon frowned, but before she could press further, a pair of students passed by their table. She felt their eyes linger, heard a faint whisper followed by muffled laughter.

Her grip tightened on her pen"Great. Already starting."

Jake's jaw flexed. "Ignore them."

"That's easy for you to say," she muttered. "They don't whisper when you're alone."

He studied her face for a beat, his smirk fading into something heavier. "Walker, you're the one who said this was strictly about the project. So let them whisper. We'll prove them wrong by getting the best damn grade in this class."

The conviction in his voice startled her. She gave a small nod and bent back over her notes.

After a moment of silence, Jake leaned in again, tapping her notebook with his finger. "You missed something-include a section on how foreign investments affect small businesses. That's where the real story is."

Sharon glanced up at him, slightly annoyed. "Do you always interrupt people mid-sentence?"

"Only when I'm right," he said with a half-grin.

She rolled her eyes, but added the note anyway.

Minutes slipped into an hour. Their banter softened into something almost... comfortable. He teased, she corrected; she argued, he countered. Sharon hated to admit it, but Jake Lawson wasn't just rich and arrogant-he was smart.

Eventually, Sharon leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms. "Okay. We've got enough for an outline. We'll divide the sections later."

Jake nodded. "Send me a copy tonight. I'll polish the framework."

She blinked at him. "You're volunteering to do actual work?"

He shot her a mock-offended look. "Wow. Your faith in me is overwhelming."

Sharon bit her lip to keep from smiling. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

For a while, they both sat quietly, neither moving to leave. Sharon scribbled something in the margin of her notebook, and Jake found himself watching her hand, the way her brows knit together in concentration. It struck him-how different she was from everyone else he knew.

"Walker," he said suddenly.

She glanced up. "What?"

"Do you ever wonder what people would say if they knew the truth about you?"

Her pen froze. "The truth?"

"Yeah," Jake said casually, though his eyes were sharp. "Not the rumors. The real story."

Sharon's chest tightened. She didn't answer right away. "That's not something I share with strangers."

Jake leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Fair enough."

For a long moment, silence stretched. Sharon dropped her gaze, fighting the urge to ask him the same question. But she didn't have to.

Because just as she began packing her books, Jake muttered under his breath, almost too low for her to catch:

"I wonder what they'd say if they knew the truth about me."

Her head snapped up, but his face was already composed again, his trademark smirk sliding back into place as if nothing had slipped.

Before she could press him, he stood and shouldered his bag. "Same time tomorrow?"

Sharon hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Same time."

As he walked away, Sharon sat frozen, staring at the empty chair across from her. For the first time since meeting Jake Lawson, she realized there was more beneath the arrogance. Something hidden. Something heavy.

And it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.