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“See something you like?”

“Yes.” Her eyes widen and she cups her mouth in shock.

A smirk itches my lips. I did not expect that.

“No. I meant no. Big no. Big fat no,” she babbles, looking at me all nervous and shy. Her cheeks further turn red.

“Are you saying I’m ugly?” I tease her with a passive face, not letting her know that I’m enjoying the fuck out of it.

“Ugly? What! No. You’re not ugly from any angle.” She roams her eyes all over me.

Heat crawls up to the back of my neck and then spreads everywhere. The more her gaze drills into me the more I become self-aware. It’s not long before I feel the heat traveling somewhere it’s not supposed to. I straighten up.

Insects and heat weren't enough, now I’m getting a boner. Fucking wonderful.

Without thinking, I bend down to her ear and catch her sucking her breath.Interesting.

“I suggest you stop looking at me like that, Rose.” I linger by her side as her flowery scent draws me to her.

“Why?” She looks up with her innocent eyes at me, which are not so innocent.

“You don’t want to know,” I whisper, my gaze dropping to her mouth.

Pink full lips. I’ve never seen lips so tempting before. Fuck. I’ve never even looked twice at lips before. But right now, I can’t stop looking at them.

Kiss her.

Kiss her.

Fucking kiss her.

The shriek of the bell removes the blanket on my senses, and I pull back from her with every bit of self-control I possess.

Her eyes are big and peer up at me with surprise and… something else. I don’t like that look one bit. It’s tempting.

Turning around, I climb up to the roof to smoke a cigarette.

There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to concentrate whenfulllipsandbrowneyesare all I can think about.

Four cigarettes later and I’m still thinking about her.

28

Hope

“Why do you think I got a D?” Marie is beside me the second the Chemistry class ends.

I start gathering my things. “I’ll need to see your test paper.”

With a huff, she looks through her backpack and pulls it out. She makes a bitter face. “I swear I hate Chemistry. It’s the most annoying subject ever.”

I stifle a smile, knowing my amusement won’t help the situation. Clearly, we have different opinions—it doesn’t bother me that much, my weakness is History. I hate remembering the timelines and the many series of events that happen in between those.

“You scored a B when I gave you the notes.”

With a snap of her fingers, she points at me. “Hah! Yes! That’s the key.Your notes.Your amazing, superb notes.”

I laugh at her exaggeration.

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