Page 109 of Smut

Blake gives him a warning look.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I say quickly. “Why? What did he say about me?”

“That you were a stuck-up bitch,” Heath says.

Blake pounds him hard in the shoulder. “You are such a wanker!”

“That’s okay,” Rio speaks up. “Amanda hated your guts the whole semester.”

“Oh, she told me that,” Blake says.

“You thought I was a bitch?” I ask him, surprised, but not exactly insulted.

“Peach,” he says, “I’ve told you I thought you were a bitch.”

“No, you said I was a dork.”

“And a nerd.”

“And a prude.”

“And a stick-in-the-mud.”

“And a lot of things.”

Rio and Heath are watching us. I shrug, trying to act causal. “Luckily we were still able to work together. We ended up getting an A on the project.”

“You know, she’s not a prude,” Rio says out of the blue, or maybe her mind is just ten steps back tonight. “She just doesn’t sleep around.”

“That’s good to know,” Blake says, leveling me with his gaze.

“Wish we could say that about old Blake Dawg here,” Heath says. “I’m pretty sure there’s a waitress here that wants to kill him.”

“What else is new?” Blake and I say in unison.

We both grin.

Eyes twinkling.

And I’m realizing how damn hard it is to sit across from him and not touch each other. Even when we’re working, I usually have my limbs draped over him or he has his hands in my hair, or he’s stroking his thumb over my shoulder. There’s always contact.

“I guess you two really got to know each other, eh?” Rio says carefully. I’m wondering if she’s picking up on anything.

“A bit,” Blake says lightly. “Wouldn’t mind knowing more though.”

I feel like I’ve got something lodged in my throat. I try to swallow.

Then the waitress comes by, and while she doesn’t appear to know Blake—thank god—the rest of the conversation eases off of us and onto other topics. All the while though, as the drinks flow and the tapas come out, I feel locked in Blake’s force field. From the depth in his eyes, to his easy smile, the way his hand is across the table, so close to mine—he’s all I can think about.

It’s fucking unbearable.

“I’ve got to go to use the toilet. Excuse me,” Blake says later, getting out of his chair. He turns around, and I see something in his eyes, a beckoning.

I chew on my lip, looking at Rio and Heath who are in deep conversation about travel. And by deep, I mean they’re discussing the significance of full-moon parties in Thailand and what drugs to do.

“I’m going to go get a drink from the bar,” I say after a minute, but they barely hear me.

I get up and head to the washrooms at the back.

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