Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
I keep my eyes locked on the side of her face, knowing she can feel my stare, and watch as her smile breaks free little by little, welcoming the prickling sensation that plays along my spine.
Finally, she gives, an airy laugh leaving her as her chin drops to her chest, but only for a moment before she faces forward once more. “It’s your fault.”
“Oh?” I fold my hands over the edge of the desk, moving all the way over until I’m all but caging her tiny frame. “Do I distract you?”
“Not even a little.” She shakes her head, but her lips couldn’t possibly curve higher.
I stare at the corner of her mouth, a smile on my own face as I drop back against my seat. “Mm-hmm.”
She laughs this time, folding her legs in her chair and shifting so she’s facing me. “Okay, but seriously. This is so boring. If everyone followed the syllabus, we should have already read this. Why do we need to sit and listen to him talk about it?”
“Did you read it?”
She scrunches her nose with a grin. “No, but I will later.”
Now I’m the one who’s laughing.
“Okay, serious question.” She glances at the professor and leans toward me. “If you had to guess, what would you say was Professor Michaels’s favorite hobby?”
My eyes cut forward, narrowing on the silver-haired man. “Judging by the vest he’s wearing today, chess. Or knitting. Competitive bird watching?”
“No way.” She hides her laugh behind her hand, her head shaking.
“No?”
“Nope. He’s very…” She peeks at me from the corner of her eye.
Mine narrow. “Very?”
“Growly.”
“Growly?” I deadpan.
She nods, pinning me with her grin. “Yeah, you know. Growly, like…”
I raise a brow, and she giggles. It’s girlie and soft, sweet, but there is no mistaking the mischievous undertone, and it clicks.
Rubbing my lips together, I pin her with my gaze. “What are you trying to say, hmm? Some not-so-angelic things? That maybe he’s into pottery ’cause he’s got to be good with his hands?”
“Oh my gosh.” She puts her face in her palms. “You said it, not me.”
Chuckling, I reach out and grip her wrists, gently pulling her hands back.
Her cheeks have turned pink, and that makes me smile wider. There’s a lightness in my chest that isn’t usually there, and I take a moment to enjoy it. The easiness of this, of…us and the friendship we’ve formed.
It’s different than with the guys, than with Ari and Cam. Maybe it’s because there is no history there. Because she doesn’t know every detail of my life, past or present.
This girl, she makes it hard to remember I’m not supposed to want this, whatever this is.
I told myself I wouldn’t go there, but right now, with her leaning in, laughing like I’m the only one in this room full of many, I don’t know.
I wish I could have a small glimpse into her mind to know if she’s just this kind, shy, gorgeous girl I’ve known the last few years or if there’s a chance for more here.
I want to know if, when she looks at me, she sees a man and all his faults or if she sees more. Or maybe less.
Does she see anything at all, or is that my lonely, weak mind playing tricks on me?
“Hey.” Her soft voice snaps me out of my head, and my eyes fall to where her hand has reached out, now resting on my forearm. I look from it to her eyes, and slowly, that blush is back.
It’s crazy, but I feel the heat of her flush in my core, and a spark of adrenaline zips through me. This feeling, it’s akin to when I’m on the field and that kind of blows my mind.
Because when I’m laced up and toeing that ten-yard line, I’m home.
So what’s this mean?
The lights flicker on, the projector cutting off, and students stand, the room suddenly bursting with sounds as everyone starts packing up. My attention returns to Paige, the tension in my chest loosening when she still wears a small smile as she shoves her things in her bag, so I do the same.
She waits until I’m ready to stand, and together, we shuffle from the aisle and out the door.
The second we step out of the building, she sighs, running her hands down her arms. “Finally. Sun.”
My gaze slides her way, finding her eyes closed as she looks up at the sky, and I can’t help but take in her features. Her skin is golden from all our time at the beach this summer and only now starting to fade as fall settles in. I’m not sure if she always has them or if they only come out with the sun, but she has a little smear of tiny freckles along her cheeks and shoulders.
The flowery sundress she’s wearing today is strapless, and my fingers are itching to reach out and trace the path of freckles, to see if they’re palpable to the touch or blended into her skin.