Page 37 of The Chemistry of Us

And it would be a long hour sitting next to him, smelling him, knowing the bet we made.

He jerked the study sheet out of my hands, pulled out his notebook from his bag, then handed me another sheet of paper with perfect penmanship and every question from the first study guide answered.

“What’s this?”

He grinned. “My head start. I figured I should at least show up with the study questions answered. Some might say I’m extremely motivated to see that pissed-off look when you realize that every answer’s correct. I may have been five minutes late”—he leaned in until his mouth was close to my ear—“but I’m gonna win this bet.”

“Doubtful,” I snapped.

“Check.” He nodded toward the paper and crossed his arms. “I’ll wait.”

Annoyance washed over me as I checked each question, only to compare it to the answer guide and realize he wasn’t wrong. In fact, his work was impeccable, and now I was in over my head yet again.

“Did you cheat?” I dropped the paper onto the table. “Be honest.”

“Nope.” He tapped his thick skull with his finger. “I told you I’m smart. I just haven’t had time, and the last thing I need is for anything to further convince my dad I need to quit football.”

I huffed out a breath. “This proves you’re not entirely dumb, but we need to go through the next paper and?—”

He held up a finger. “You mean this one? I went ahead and did both assignments from this week.”

His grin was menacing, and I wanted to jump across the table and fight him. Instead, I smiled back. “You won’t be able to keep this up.”

“Watch me.”

“You wish.”

He ignored me and pointed down at the study sheet. “Should we get started on the next assignment, then? I figure the faster I get all this shit done, the faster I can angry fuck you against the wall and abandon you.”

I knew it wouldn’t last—the moment we had the other night and the fact that no matter what I said, he’d always think I was the one in the wrong when it had always been him. I swore he convinced himself of it all those years ago.

“I can’t wait for you to succeed and give me the best ten seconds of my life, killer.” I winked.

He gripped my hand and jerked me close to him. “Be honest, I’ll last at least three minutes if only just to piss you off. I might even take some Viagra so we can go hard for hours and hours. I would love to remind you of what you left behind, what you’re missing, and what you’ll never have again. See? It’s good to have goals.”

“I loathe you.”

He just kept smiling and released my hand. “So worksheet number three…”

CHAPTER 14

VAUGHAN

Iimpressed her. It really was the only damn thing that got me through the soreness of the next two days. Her eyes said death was imminent, but her body posture gave everything away. She’d leaned in, she’d huffed, she’d looked away, then she’d looked down and frowned at my paper like I somehow Hogwarted myself into doing homework that actually passed her supreme and superior standards.

Honestly, I could live off that expression for a solid week. I even went to practice still smiling, peacocking like I was the motherfucking king until I got hit so hard by Brady and shoved into the ground. That was never a good sign.

“Bro!” Brady dropped to his knees on the grass. I could feel my own heartbeat in my throat. “I’m sorry, you good?”

Good?

No.

Coherent. Maybe?

“Sureeshhhh.” I shook my head. “Givmee minutes.”

“Shit!” Coach shouted. “Brady, what the hell?”

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