Page 97 of Raise Hell

“I threw some stuff together for our project, just preliminary work,” he says offhandedly. “Let me know what you think.”

Drake hands me a sheaf of papers neatly bound in a plastic report cover. My jaw nearly drops as I flip through it. Almost all of the work is already done. At least I know Drake’s current position at the top of our class is actually deserved.

He is the infuriating kind of elite who actually seems to have earned what they have.

“This is a lot,” I manage, flipping through the pages. “How long did this take?”

“Just a couple of hours on Sunday.” He takes the report back. “I’ll email you a copy. Let me know if you have anything to add.”

I won’t have anything to add, because I still have no idea what’s going on in this class, but it feels silly to admit that out loud.

Especially because he’s already aware he is carrying all the weight for this project

“Yeah, sure.”

Drake strokes my high ponytail and gently pulls on the end. “You seem like you’re a million miles away.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Maybe this will bring you back down to earth.”

The slight change in his tone is my only warning.

He grabs my chin, using the relentless grip to leverage to pull me across the small distance separating our desks. The only way to stop him is to make an even bigger scene.

Which both of us know I’m not going to do.

His lips crash down on mine in a kiss that is more about staking a claim than anything else.

Our classmates whoop and holler. A guy in the back lets out a piercing whistle. I’m sure someone has pulled out their phone to record video, probably more than one. When I try to pull away, his fingers tighten enough to stop me, but not quite painfully.

When he finally lets me go, I scoot to the other side of my chair. I duck down into the collar of my jacket so fewer people will see the raging blush on my cheeks. The one thing I’d tried to do from the beginning of this was play things cool and collected.

But Drake somehow manages to tear down every one of my defenses in one fell swoop. There isn’t anything I can do about it without breaking the character I’ve worked so hard to create.

My king is in check, a few more moves and this game will be over.

I wait until Dr. Hewey arrives and starts lecturing so the rest of the class is distracted, before spitting out a harsh whisper.

“Didn’t know you were into public displays of affection.”

Drake replies in a similar whisper, not taking his gaze off the board up front. But the laughter in his voice is obvious “Maybe I just couldn’t help myself.”

I scoot my chair over a few inches, as if that makes any difference. Unless I want to climb into the lap of the person sitting on my other side, I’m still well within Drake’s reach. “Just for future reference, I’m not a prize that you get to show off.”

He smirks. “And here I was thinking that you loved being the center of attention.”

“You do that again, and everyone is going to watch you get punched in the dick.”

“Go ahead and try. Wrestling you into submission might make for good foreplay.”

I slump down in my seat, staring at the chalkboard with vision that has gone blurry. My hands are clenched into tight fists in my pockets as I pretend to pay attention to whatever the hell Dr. Hewey is saying.

If I squeeze the beads of my rosary any harder, they’ll shatter between my fingers.

* * *

I don’t geta break even at lunch.

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