The door swung open just as Mrs. Cleo wheeled out the overhead projector. Roth strolled into class, bio book in hand and a cocky smile plastered across his face. The pen slipped out of my grip, flinging forward and smacking the head of a girl sitting two seats in front of me. She whirled around, throwing up her hands as she shot me a dirty look.
Stacey popped up in her seat, emitting a low squeal.
Winking at Mrs. Cleo, he edged past her. She just shook her head and fiddled with her notes. All eyes were on Roth as he sauntered down the center aisle. Jaws dropped and girls turned in their seats. Some of the guys did, too.
“Hey there,” he murmured to Stacey.
“Hi.” Her elbows slid across the desk.
Then he turned those golden eyes on me. “Good morning.”
“My day is made,” Stacey whispered, grinning at Roth as he dropped his book and sat.
“Good for you,” I snapped, digging another pen out of my bag.
Mrs. Cleo flipped off the lights. “I haven’t graded the tests yet, since some of you will be making up those tests on Friday. Expect your grades and any extra-credit assignments to be handed out on Monday.”
Several students groaned while I pictured stabbing my pen into the back of Roth’s head.
What had I planned last night? Not a damn thing, because I fell asleep while plotting on the observation deck.
About ten minutes into Mrs. Cleo’s dry lecture about cell respiration, Stacey stopped bouncing in her seat. I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Roth. He didn’t even bother pretending to take notes. At least I held a pen in my hand.
He tipped his chair back until it rested against our table, planting his elbows on my textbook to support his precarious position. Once again, I smelled something sweet, like sugary wine or dark chocolate.
I considered moving his arms, but that would require me to touch him. I could poke him in the arm with my pen—hard. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing really nice arms. Smooth skin stretched over well-defined biceps. And there was Bambi, curling around his arm. I leaned forward, somewhat fascinated by the detail. Each ripple in the snake’s skin had been shaded so that it actually looked three dimensional. The underbelly was gray and soft-looking, but I doubted Roth’s skin would be very soft. It looked as hard as Warden skin.
The tattoo looked so real.
Because it is real, you idiot.
Just then, the tail twitched and slid over his elbow.
Gasping, I jerked back in my seat. Stacey shot me a weird look.
Roth turned his head. “What are you doing back there?”
My eyes narrowed on him.
“Are you staring at me?”
“No!” I whispered, lying through my teeth.
He eased the chair down, sparing Mrs. Cleo a brief glance before turning sideways in his seat. “I think you are.”
Stacey leaned over, grinning. “She was.”
I shot her a hateful look. “I was not.”
Roth eyed Stacey with renewed interest. “She was? And what was she staring at?”
“I really don’t know,” Stacey whispered back. “I was too busy staring at your face to notice.”
A pleased grin appeared. “Stacey, right?”
She leaned into me. “That’s me.”
I pushed her back to her side, rolling my eyes. “Turn around,” I ordered.