Page 59 of End Game

I slowly shake my head. “Never.”

We smile at each other, and oh my God, I wonder what I’m doing. This doesn’t feel like two friends working together in the library.

More like it’s a man and a woman who are desperately attracted to each other, trying to fight their feelings while they work together in a library.

“Mind if I put these in?” I hold up my AirPods case.

“Not at all.” He unzips the front pocket of his backpack and pulls out his own case. “I’ll plug in too.”

I scroll Spotify for my favorite playlist I like to do schoolwork to and turn it on shuffle before I grab my laptop and set it up. Within minutes I’m typing, trying my best to remain focused on the task before me. I’m last minute with this one since it’s due at midnight tonight and the professor already declared there will be no extensions. I’m about halfway done, so it shouldn’t be a problem, but ...

The man sitting across from me is an utter distraction. I can smell him. That spicy cologne I know he uses, because I see it on our bathroom counter, hits my senses every time I breathe in. Then there’s the fact that I can just feel his presence. He’s like a magnetic force sitting across from me, radiating heat and sexiness. Is that even a thing?

The longer I sit here and try to avoid him, the more unavoidable he becomes. I chance a look in his direction, lifting my gaze to peek at him from above my laptop to catch him already watching me.

His gaze jerks away from mine. He returns his attention to his computer screen, sitting up a little and twisting his neck to the left, then the right.

I drop my gaze back to my screen, the words blurring as I stare at them.

Is this going to work? Or do I need to leave and sit in another section? That would be incredibly rude of me, but I’m feeling desperate. The clock keeps on ticking—I check the corner of my laptop screen and see that it’s almost seven thirty—and I’ve got to get this paper done.

Now.

Determination filling me, I tap through the songs on my playlist until I get to one with a fast beat, telling myself it’s go time. No more outside distractions.

I’m going to get this paper done.

Within seconds I’m writing it, 100 percent focused, the music fueling me. Occasionally I have to do some research and look up some facts, but for the most part, I’m putting this paper together with all the energy I can muster. Another thing urging me on is the fact that I have to go to work so early tomorrow. I don’t want to stay up too late tonight because I’ll pay the price in the morning.

I’m not risking it.

After a while I’m so focused on the research paper I’m putting together, I don’t even notice what Nico’s doing any longer. I don’t even smell him. I’m in the zone, bopping my head every few minutes to the beat of the song I’m listening to, skipping the ones I know the lyrics to. Singing along with a song always ruins my attention span.

The first time Nico’s foot nudges against mine, I don’t acknowledge it. I’m sure it’s an accident, and I don’t want to take the time to talk about it.

But then it happens again. I jerk my foot back, frowning. Still not looking at him.

It happens again. This time, his foot slides along mine, his leg curling, like he’s trying to ... what? Trap me?

I lift my gaze to find him watching me, his too-sexy lips curved up in a closed-mouth smile.

Turning off the music, I stare him down, but he doesn’t say anything. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“You’re super focused.”

“I need to finish my paper.”

“How much longer until you’re done?” He lifts his brows.

I check the word count along with the pages I’ve already written. “Probably another page and a half.”

“Cool.” He nods, his glasses slipping a little down the bridge of his nose, and he uses his index finger to push them back into place.

My stomach flutters at the cute gesture. I should not be turned on by him pushing his glasses up his nose, but here we are.

“I’ll leave you alone,” he says when I remain silent.

I turn the music back on and hope like crazy he keeps his word.

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