Page 112 of A Little Tempting

It’s a box.

A plain cardboard box.

No label. No picture. No hints as to what’s inside.

Curious, I peek up at Reeves, and he murmurs, “Maybe open it after class.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

“Reeves…”

He grabs my hand from toying with the edge of the lid, slips it under the table, and rests it in his lap. His touch is gentle—casual—as he plays with my fingers, dragging the tip of his own along every crevice. Every surface. It feels amazing. And intimate.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Distracting you.”

“From what, exactly?”

“From what’s in the box.” He leans closer. “Don’t want you going all Brad Pitt on me fromSeven.”

My brows bunch. “Huh?”

“Seven?” he repeats. “The movie?”

“I don’t know what it is?—”

“Aw, come on, Pickles.Seven? About the serial killer. ‘What’s in the box? What’s in the box?’” His face contorts like he’s caught between begging and fear. I stare blankly back at him until his usual persona clicks back into place, and he tsks, “So disappointing.”

Like an egg, my indifference cracks, and I shake my head. “You’re insane.”

He grins. “Yeah, I know.”

“Hey, Reeves,” the girl in front of us interrupts.

Annoyance flashes across his face, but he covers it in an instant. “Yeah?”

“You excited for the game tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. It’ll be good.”

He turns back to me, effectively dismissing her as she adds, “You should keep an eye on the crowd. I got you a present, but I can’t give it to you until the?—”

“You know who loves gifts?” he interrupts. “Griffin. Me? I hate gifts unless they’re from my girl here.” He rests his arm on top of my chair and leans back, making sure I’m fully included in the conversation. “But Griff? Griff’s a big fan of presents. Whatever you have planned should definitely be for him.”

“Oh.” Her bottom lip juts out in a pout. “But my friend likes Griff and?—”

“Miss Brown,” Dr. Broderick snaps from the front of the room. Like a top, the girl spins around in her seat and crouches down, trying to make herself smaller. With another stern look, he continues, “As I was saying, today, you’ll discuss the second emotion for your project. Talk with your partner about which emotion you’d like to focus on and schedule a time to make it happen. I need a list of props and a description of the desired setting on my desk by Friday. Any questions?” The guy barely waits a millisecond. “Good. Get started.”

Reeves rolls his shoulders and scoots closer, bringing us knee to knee. “So. Emotions.”

“Emotions.”

“Should we go straight to horny? Or?—”

“Reeves!” I smack his chest and bury my face in my hands.

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