Chapter 3

The morning conversation still echoed in my head, Jax's cocky confidence leaving me both furious and... confused.

Focus, Sloane. I shook my head hard, forcing myself back to reality. Finals were only two weeks away, and I still had review plans for three courses to finish. British Literature, Calculus, and that damn Chemistry... scholarship students didn't have the luxury of making mistakes.

That afternoon, I chose the quietest corner of the library—the quiet section—with Pride and Prejudice spread open before me. It reminded me of the stories my mom used to read to me when I was young, back when we still lived in that small apartment in Connecticut, before she started drinking.

The story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy always fascinated me. One was an ordinary girl without background, the other an arrogant wealthy gentleman...

"What a coincidence."

I looked up, nearly dropping the highlighter in my hand. Jax sat across from me, holding a pristine copy of Pride and Prejudice.

"You're also taking Professor Phillips' British Literature class?" I stared at the book in his hands, my voice heavy with suspicion.

"Yes." He opened the book, his voice completely lacking the provocative tone from this morning. "But honestly, I started reading it seriously to better understand you."

I stared at him in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"I'm curious about how you interpret this book," he looked into my eyes. "For instance, why do you think Elizabeth Bennet rejected Darcy's first proposal?"

Damn it. This focused gaze, this serious tone... completely different from the arrogant man who said he'd make me "come to him" this morning.

I studied him, trying to determine if this was another pickup technique. But his expression was so focused, reminding me of those students who truly loved literature.

"Because she only saw his pride, not the real him." I answered cautiously.

"So when did she start seeing the real him?" Jax's gaze was meaningful as he looked at me.

"When she discovered his character beneath his actions and appearance."

"So," Jax leaned forward, his tone becoming gentle, "appearances and rumors aren't necessarily the truth?"

Wait, is he implying something about me? Discussing a woman rejecting a man... was he referencing this morning? This serious demeanor was so different from the morning, but could this be exactly his strategy?

"Maybe." My voice was tense. "But some people really are consistent inside and out. Like those whose Instagram bios read 'Why choose one when you can have them all.'"

He paused, then smiled bitterly. "What if I said I wanted to change that bio?"

"Why?"

"Because I met a girl who makes me want to choose only her."

My heart nearly stopped beating. This morning he was talking about conquering all women, and now he's saying he wants to choose only one person?

Just then, my phone buzzed. Another message from Chloe: "How's it going? Did he take the bait? Remember, he's just a player. Don't let him fool you."

Reality instantly pulled me back. I remembered what Chloe had said—he'd never truly loved anyone. This gentleness, this sincerity... it must be part of his strategy too.

"I don't believe you." I gathered my books and stood up. "People like you just enjoy the process of conquest."

"Sloane..."

"Don't," I interrupted him. "I know what kind of person you are."

But as I turned to leave, I heard him say softly behind me: "Maybe you don't know me well enough yet."

My steps faltered for a moment, but I still left without looking back.

After leaving the library, I leaned against the hallway wall, trying to calm my chaotic thoughts. Why were my hands shaking?

More importantly, why did I, for that brief moment, actually want to believe him?

My phone rang again—this time a bill reminder from mom's rehab center. Fifty thousand dollars.

I took a deep breath and replied to Chloe: [Plan proceeding smoothly. He's already started pursuing me.]

But after sending that text, I felt unprecedented confusion.

The arrogant player from morning and the gentle gentleman from afternoon... which one was the real Jax Vanderbilt?

And what disturbed me most was that I found myself wanting to know the answer.

Over the next week, Jax was everywhere.

Tuesday, a perfectly crafted latte appeared on my desk with a small note: "Elizabeth did fall in love with Darcy in the end, didn't she? — J"

Thursday, I "ran into" him three times in the hallway, each time he naturally chatted with me about coursework, completely lacking the aggressive attitude from that morning.

Friday afternoon, he finally made his move directly.

"There's a sailing regatta this weekend," he leaned against my locker. "I need a partner."

"Ask Charlotte," I continued organizing my textbooks. "She'd be happy to go."

"But I want you." His voice was soft. "Give me a chance to prove it? Prove I'm not the kind of person you think I am."

I stopped what I was doing and looked into his eyes. There was no morning arrogance there, only a seriousness I couldn't read through.

"I don't know how to sail."

"I'll teach you." He extended his hand toward me. "Just one day, Sloane. If I still disappoint you, you never have to acknowledge me again."

I stared at his outstretched hand, remembering Chloe's words. Maybe... this was a good opportunity to make him fall deeper?

"Alright." I said softly. "But I have conditions."

Hope flashed in his eyes: "What conditions?"

"If you're still like you were this morning on the boat..." I looked into his eyes. "I'll leave immediately and never give you another chance."

"Deal." He extended his hand. "Promise?"

I took his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm.

But when I returned to my dorm and saw Chloe's messages on my phone, I couldn't help wondering:

Was this condition to protect myself, or to give myself a reason to believe in him?