“Being so judgmental all the time.” I lift my gaze to his. “You were right. So was everyone else who told me that.”
“Aw, little birdy is learning something from the project.” He reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m proud of you.”
My skin warms from his touch and I try to push past the foreign feeling. He shouldn’t say words like that either.
I might end up liking them too much.
“Have you learned anything about yourself yet?” I ask hopefully, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach from him touching me.
“I learned that you think I’m an asshole.”
I frown. “I never said that.”
“You don’t have to. I can just tell.”
I’ve been told I wear all of my emotions plainly on my face…
“You also think I act like I own the school.”
“Um, you literally do.”
“My family does,” he corrects.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
“You’re sassy today, Bird.”
“When you push yourself into my personal business, it makes me sassy.” I tap my pencil against my notebook. “Are we going to actually work on this project today?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it.” He leans back in his chair, his gaze still on me. “I want to interview you.”
Unease sweeps over me, setting me immediately on edge. “How about I interview you instead?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I came up with a few questions last night. Things I’d love to know about you.”
Why do his words sound more like a threat? “Trust me. I’m not going to reveal everything about myself to you.”
“I thought that was the point of this project.”
“You’re supposed to be analyzing me. Trying to figure me out versus me just giving you all the information you want,” I remind him.
“You always have a way of making everything extra difficult, don’t you.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question.
His words sting and I hate that. “Fine. Ask your questions.”
Crew grabs his phone and opens it to the notes section, scanning whatever he wrote there, his brows drawn together. I take the opportunity to stare at him, taking in his chiseled features. The sharp jawline and soft lips. The strong nose and angled cheekbones. The thick brows and icy blue eyes. His face is like a work of art, something you’d find in a painting from hundreds of years ago. A callous aristocrat, clad in tights that showed off his muscular legs, a heavy velvet coat to show off his opulent wealth.
He would’ve fit in then as he fits in now. What’s that like, knowing your place? Being so confident in it?
I thought I knew, but ever since this project started, I’ve been thrown off. Feeling out of sorts.
“Okay.” Crew’s deep voice pulls me from my thoughts and I refocus on him. “Do you have any hobbies?”
“Such a general question.” Wait, am I teasing him?
“It’s a solid way to find out what you like.”
He’s got a point.