Page 80 of Caught Stealing

“Eyes and mouth, Nix.”

Some mixture of a scoff and a laugh leaves him, and he lowers his gaze back to the book while shaking his head.

We’ve been careful ever since that day in the empty classroom, ensuring to keep any and all hook-ups behind closed, locked,privatedoors. If we’re keeping this a secret the way Phoenix wants—at least from Kason—then having someone walk in on us is pretty much the worst thing that could happen.

After all, people talk, and word spreads fast. Even at a college Leighton’s size.

But moments like this? When we’re alone and I make the mistake of touching him, or he catches me staring? Fuck, they make it hard to remember why we’re supposed to behave.

“Stop. Staring,” he says, his tone flat and direct while his eyes stay locked on his notebook as he continues writing.

“Stop. Being. Sexy.”

“Kinda something I can’t control, considering I’m not even trying,” he retorts.

“Mmm, yeah, you’re right. This is one of thosemaybe he’s born with itmoments.”

His gaze lifts from his notebook again. Slower this time, before he cocks his head and blinks at me. “Did you justMaybellineme?”

My lips lift in a grin. “Maybe.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

I hold my hands out to my sides in awhat can you doshrug. “Hey, at least I’m entertaining. There’s nothing worse than a boring study partner.”

“Actually, there’s nothing worse than a partner who just doesn’t study.”

Touché, Nixy.

I don’t have a rebuttal, so I just laugh and go back to reading about the fall of the Qing Dynasty.But every time I look up, there’s Phoenix with his teeth in his lip all over again. I swear, he’s doing it on purpose now, but…fuck.

“Keep biting your lip, and I’m gonna bite it for you,” I warn him.

From the little smirk that forms as he releases it, he’s definitely doing it on purpose now. One of the many ways he drives me crazy.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve discovered this chemistry between us is indescribable. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and it makes me wonder if it was similar the first time we hooked up. The night, no matter how many times I ask, I still know nothing about.

At this point, it’s become a game to him. So while I know him telling me what happened—in every glorious, explicit detail—won’t bring back my memories, part of me still wants to know.

But then again, maybe what happened isn’t the question I should be asking.

I watch him as he’s writing dates for something, and then the words fall from my lips before I realize it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the night at Kappa Sig sooner?”

Phoenix’s pen pauses on the paper as he looks up at me. His eyes search mine momentarily, his face taking on an indecipherable expression that quickly turns to something like…shame? Guilt, maybe?

“I didn’t know you were so drunk that you wouldn’t remember,” he says, casting his eyes down again. “It wasn’t until you brought it up at the bar in St. Pete’s that I realized it. Up until then, I just thought you were an asshole and wanted to pretend we’d never slept together. Or it was so unmemorable, you…”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. I have a pretty clear idea of where it was heading.

So unmemorable, I didn’t realize he was the person I’d slept with.

An ache emerges in my chest from an onslaught of emotion—one I’ve been feeling a lot more lately when it comes to him.

Regret.

Not for sleeping with him—but for ever making him feel like that. As if he could ever be unmemorable or lackluster or anything other than fucking amazing.

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