His office, my rules

CARTER

I stacked the last of the case files into my briefcase. The office was quiet now. Students had cleared out hours ago. Just the sound of the clock ticking above the door.

I closed the flap when I heard a knock.

The door opened before I answered.

Eli stepped in, clutching a folder to his chest like it might explode. His hair was damp again, sticking up in places like he’d run his hands through it too many times.

“Uh—here.” He placed the folder on my desk quickly, like he was dropping off contraband.

I looked at it. “What is this.”

“The list,” he said. “Research assignments, grading sheets, uh… the stuff you asked for.”

I opened it, scanned quickly. Organized. Neat handwriting. No mistakes. “Efficient.”

He shifted on his feet. “Thanks… I guess.”

I closed the folder. “You’ll need access to the source documents.”

“Oh. Okay, sure. Where do I…?”

“At my house.”

He froze. Eyes wide. Shoulders locked. “Y-your house?”

“Yes.”

His mouth opened, closed. “Wait—you mean like… your house house?”

I raised a brow. “Is there another kind?”

He blinked fast. “I—no. I just… your house?”

“Is there a problem.”

His throat bobbed. “No, I—just—it’s your house—”

I smirked faintly, the first shift in my expression all day. “You’re stuttering.”

His face turned red. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

He glared at me, which was useless. I snapped the case shut and stood. “Let’s go.”

In the car, he sat stiff beside me, hands gripping his bag like it was a seatbelt.

“You look like you’re being driven to an execution,” I said flatly.

He jumped. “What? No. I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying,” he muttered.

I flicked him a glance. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.”

His face went hot. He looked out the window quickly.

Silence stretched.

I didn’t fill it.

We pulled into the driveway.

The lights were on.

I frowned.

I hadn’t left them on.

I cut the engine. Eli shifted nervously beside me.

“Someone’s here?” he asked.

I opened the door without answering.

Inside, I heard it before I saw him—Liam’s voice.

“Bro, you’re late. Thought you’d show earlier.”

He was sprawled on the couch, drink in hand, like he owned the place.

My jaw clenched. “What the fuck are you doing in my house.”

He smirked. “Relax. Just came to say hi. You don’t pick up my calls.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“Why not? It’s not like you’ve got company—”

He stopped when he saw Eli step in behind me.

His smirk widened. “Well. Well. Speak of the devil.”

Eli froze. Shoulders hunched like he wanted to vanish.

Liam’s eyes dragged over him slow. “Didn’t think you’d move on this fast. My brother, Eli? Really?”

“Shut up,” Eli muttered.

“Cute.” Liam leaned back, smug. “What, he makes you feel safe? You think he’ll fix you? You and your broken—”

“Get the fuck out,” I cut in, voice low.

Liam’s smirk faltered. He sat up. “Seriously?”

I took a step forward, eyes cold. “Now.”

He looked between us, jaw tight. “Unbelievable.”

“Door’s there,” I said.

The silence stretched. Then, finally, he slammed the glass down on the table and stood.

His face was dark now, anger burning through the fake grin. “You’ll regret this, Carter.”

“Out.”

He brushed past, shoulder knocking mine harder than necessary, and stormed out. The door slammed behind him.

The house went quiet again.

Eli let out a breath like he’d been holding it for hours. “Holy shit.”

I didn’t answer. Just walked past him into my office.

“Wait—where are you going?” he asked, trailing after me.

“To get the files,” I said.

“That was… intense.”

I opened the cabinet, pulled out the locked drawer. “That was Liam.”

“Yeah, I know who it was.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He hasn’t changed at all.”

“No.”

“He looked… mad.”

“He always looks mad when he doesn’t get what he wants.”

I gathered the files into a folder and handed it to him.

He blinked. “That’s it? You’re just… calm after all that?”

“Yes.”

“You kicked your own brother out of your house.”

“And?”

He stared at me. “You’re impossible.”

I shut the drawer. “Good. Keeps people out.”

His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t.

Instead, he clutched the folder tighter and whispered, “Thanks… for standing up for me.”

I paused at the door, glanced back at him. “Don’t thank me. I don’t like uninvited guests.”

I left him and went to the kitchen.

The fridge hummed as I opened it. I pulled out a bottle of water, twisted the cap, and drank slow.

The sound of footsteps shuffled behind me.

Eli hovered in the doorway, hugging the folder like it was a shield. His eyes darted everywhere but me.

“I should go,” he said. Voice soft, quick.

I closed the bottle. “I’ll drive you.”

His head snapped up. “N-no, it’s fine.”

“It’s late,” I said flatly. “I’ll drive you.”

He shook his head fast. “No. Really. I—I can walk. It’s not far.”

I tilted my head. “Why are you running away?”

“I’m not—” His words stumbled over each other. “I just—I have to go.”

I leaned against the counter, watching him. “Stuttering again.”

His face flushed. “Stop pointing that out.”

“Can’t help it.”

He shifted from foot to foot, gripping the folder tighter. “Thanks… for the files. And for… earlier. With Liam.”

“You already thanked me,” I said.

He bit his lip. “Right. Well. I’ll… go now.”

I nodded once. “Suit yourself.”

He turned quickly, practically bolting down the hall.

The front door opened, then slammed shut.

I drank again, the cool water sharp against my throat.

Through the window, I caught sight of him running across the driveway. No umbrella. Still clutching the folder like it might break.

A smirk tugged at my mouth.

Skittish. Easily rattled.

But interesting.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

Unknown number.

I frowned, answered. “Vale.”

The voice on the other end was tight. Urgent.

The smirk disappeared. My grip on the bottle tightened.

“I’ll be there,” I said, voice low.

And I hung up.