I push a stray strand of my curly hair, still slightly damp, behind my ear as an awkward, breathy laugh tumbles out of me. "You made up with her? My bad, I thought things ended between you guys."

His frown deepens. "We're talking about last week's Wednesday and not the other one where you met Julia, right?"

"Obviously،" I slowly say. Does that mean Julia is his ex?

"This is exactly why I don't want you going around telling it to your friends."

I arch an eyebrow. "So not a crazy ex?"

He pushes his glasses up his nose, mumbles something under his breath before starting, "Saff." But shakes his head. "Savannah, the girl you were enjoying her dramatics..." he inhales sharply, pushes his free hand into his sweatpants' pocket. "She's my sister," he grumbles.

I back away, gaping at him. No freaking way. An unreasonable flood of relief accompanied by giddiness tickles my senses. I cover my mouth with my palm. "No way!" Brian was right! "Oh my gosh! I never would have thought of that! Not even in million years," I exclaim and then gasp. "She's so pretty! You guys look nothing alike. Oh my gosh, she's like actually your sister, right? Not adopted or anything."

"We share the same parents," he mutters. "And how would we look alike? Our genders are different."

I wave my hand dismissively. "Come on, Masson and I have a lot of similarities."

He tilts his head, the corners of his mouth turning downward as squints. "No, you don't."

I roll my eyes. "If you look closely, we do." I hold out my index finger for emphasis. "But my goodness, you two don't even look related! She's so gorgeous. And she has an awesome sense of style too." I smile as I recall her choice of clothing and nod to myself.

He huffs a disbelief laugh. "As much as it's nice to hear someone compliment my sister, I'm trying really hard not to get offended."

My brows squish together as I press my finger beneath my bottom lip, watching him with confusion. "Why would you be offended?"

He moves back slightly. "Are you serious! Each time you say something good about her, you're pointing out how different from me she is."

"Oh, that." I nod and sip the remaining coffee in my cup. "Honestly, I feel bad for her. Like who pats his crying sister's hand as a form of reassurance!"

He glares at me. "So you were entirely zoomed in on us?"

"I was and if Mason would have done the same to me, I would have rained hellfire on him." I shake my head. "Really though, who does that."

"We were in a public place where two of my students were already watching us like hawks."

I scoff. "That's the unimportant detail. You don't make your sister cry in public places, that's basically one of the fundamental rules of being a brother."

"You don't even know what we were talking about."

I shrug. "She cried, which means she was the one who was right." He opens his mouth to argue but I hold up a finger and continue, "If she was wrong, she would have started shouting and crying from the very first second. When a girl doesn't use her most powerful weapon from the beginning, it means she wants to reason with that person, because she knows she's right."

"That's the stupidest logic I've ever heard."

"You know what, you need to learn a few things from Mason. Like he almost never agrees with anything I do, and we fight a lot, but still at the end, even if he doesn't grasp my point of view, he'll have my back. He'll be there when I screw things up, to help me out because that's how it has always been and will be. He has actually never made me cry, except the times I had to fake it to get Mom and Dad's support. And if it's anything other than that, I'll make sure to cause enough drama to make him regret it for good and never repeat it." I smile at him as he stares at me. "What? Don't look at me like that. Maybe I should teach your sister a few things."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Never thought I'll say this, but I'm starting to feel bad for your brother."

I roll my eyes, but my smile remains. "No one said having a younger sister is easy." I raise an eyebrow for a better dramatic effect.

He tilts his head to one side and narrows his eyes. "So you're really close with your brother."

I nod. "I have raised him to be a good and supportive brother who doesn't make me cry in public places and doesn't pat my hand in means of comforting me." I give him a pointed look and he ignores it.

"If he's so supportive... correct me if I'm wrong, but the first time you came to my room... two weeks ago, you said no one in your family can work, leaving you as the only source of income." He turns to fully face me.

My mouth goes dry. I already know what's his question, and I refuse to hold his gaze.

"Tell me, if your brother is so supportive, why isn't he doing anything? He graduated way back, and I'm pretty sure he didn't pursue high studies."

I rub my forehead. I was not expecting this discussion to take this turn, if I knew, I never would have started. But now it's too late. I tap my foot as I run my thumbnail over the handle of my mug. "No one is giving him a job."

He leans to the glass wall and his frown deepens, a hand in his pocket and the other holding his cup makes his well-fitted shirt highlight his pecs as he studies me closely.

"Not giving a job to him?" he echoes with disbelief. "He was always one of the good ones in all the classes we had together." He cocks his head to one side. "How's that possible? An Ivy League graduate jobless?"

I shuffle my feet under his scrutiny.

"Stewart?" he probes, leaning a bit towards me.

I inhale sharply, gathering my bearings. Under normal circumstances, I never would have given into telling him the truth, but maybe it's the exhaustion of the day. The weight of carrying the guilt makes me glance at him and start, "The accident Julia mentioned," I pause and he nods, encouraging me to keep going. Easier than expected the words stream out of me. "It paralyzed him."

He jolts back and straightens himself, gaping at me. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally saying, "You said he was fine."

I shake my head, staring at a raindrop skidding down the glass. "I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted me to tell this to his ex. It's his part to tell, to whoever he wants."

Slowly, Wright nods. "Fair enough... but how did it happen? On one of his adventures?"

"It was a car accident and no it wasn't his fault." It was my fault. I gulp the non-existent saliva in my mouth as I clutch the cup and we stay quiet for long moments.

He softly says, "I can't imagine how hard it must be."

I peer through my lashes and our eyes lock. His gaze too intense for me, I look away first, taking a step back. "Thanks for the coffee." I hold up the mug and offer a weak smile.

His expression remains thoughtful like he's figuring out a complicated part of a puzzle, as he gives a single nod, watching me closely.

"I'll put this in the kitchen," I mumble and walk away.

As I put it cup in the dishwasher, Wright calls out, "You can sleep if you want, you've had a long day." He stops on the other side of the kitchen island.

"I'm good." I rub my palms on my thighs, over the grey sweatpants.

"I have a few things I need to get done; I'll be in my study. If you wanted to eat something the fridge is here... but you told me this morning didn't get much sleep, working on the problems I'd given you. A little rest might do you well, Stewart."

Oh shit. The last thing I need is for him to think I'm a sleep-deprived weirdo... but I can't sleep here either. Never know when the nightmares come crashing down. For one day, I've embarrassed myself far more than enough. So I do what I'm good at, change the subject.

"Why do you call me Stewart? Everyone calls me Gracie... and it's not like you don't know my name." I stand across from him.

A side of his mouth quirks up. "I'm not your friend, Stewart."

I drum my fingers on the kitchen island. "Including professors. Even Professor Morris calls me Gracie and he never calls anyone of his students with their first name."

"You do realize, doctor Morris' youngest daughter is about three years older than you."

I lift a shoulder. "So?"

"Do I look like I have a kid your age running around here?"

I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling. "Why someone around my age would be running around?"

He stares at me blankly before huffing and walking away. "Just go to bed Stewart."

I laugh and follow him. "I can help." He halts and spins to me. "With whatever you need to do," I add when he keeps gazing at me.

He pushes his glasses up his nose. "No."

"Why not? I can be helpful," I stop and gasp. "Are you choosing our finals' questions? Or next quiz?"

"Maybe." He shrugs with a smile. The merriment gleaming in his features, quickens my pulse and an overwhelming sense of exhilaration warms my insides, fluttering butterflies reappear in my stomach.

I grin like an idiot. "Then I can most definitely help, I won't tell the questions to anyone."

He shakes his head, the smile spread across his face not leaving either. "Stewart," he light-heartedly warns.

"Okay, fine! But do we have a quiz next week?"

"You know I don't tell beforehand." He rests his hand on the doorknob.

"But I'm different. Aren't I your special student?" I bat my lashes playfully.

He chuckles. "You're not."

"Not yet." I arch an eyebrow and hold up my index finger. "I'm going to be the first student you'll be writing a paper with. Of course, I'll be special. All firsts are always special." I hold my hand under my chin as I say, "I'll be too. Special and unforgettable."

"Good night Stewart." He laughs and walks into his study and closes the door.

I bite my lip, still smiling. His laugh is a heart-warming sound, making my heart hammer in my chest and tingling sensations erupt over my skin as I enter his bedroom, and shut the door.

I shake my head and walk to the bed, plopping down on it. I run my hand over the black silk bedcover and a sigh falls from my lips.

Something's definitely wrong with me. Maybe Wright is right. Perhaps I do need sleep after spending days working on those fifty questions he gave me to solve, and after everything happened today.

Gingerly I slip under the covers and inhale the familiar deep woody and Chypre cologne scent, causing hundreds of knots to tie and untie in my chest.

I gaze out the window, watching the beautiful skyline. My mind wanders back to Alex and Everly. To my family's bankruptcy and to the day the accident happened.

They go round in my head as the solution I found adds to the pile. I have to betray Wright too. The thought doesn't sit well with me, making me uneasy and uncomfortable.

Maybe Everly is right... perhaps I am an awful person. I ruined my brother's life and now I've planned to snatch Wright's post-doc thesis too, for all the self-serving, unacceptable reasons.

My eyelids get heavy, the thoughts whirl in my head faster and soon exhaustion wins, and sleep claims my consciousness.

∞ ∞ ∞

Hope you liked this chapter ^.^ Do you think Gracie is already special for Wright? =)

I'm sorry if the chapter had errors or typos, I'm so exhausted and sleepy, I can barely keep my eyes open (ugh only 3 weeks to go before my exams start and I'm already tired  >_<)

Anyways, this chapter was loaded with fluff, but prepare yourself for some not so fluff parts for tomorrow's chapter ^^

Thanks for reading, don't forget to comment your thoughts and vote if you enjoyed.

Lots of love, happy reading <33