Comfort Zone (Awkward Love 4)

I laugh. “No. I’d struggle, too. There might be a couple of numbers I have memorized, but the rest…”

“And would one of those numbers belong to a very sexy, pro—”

“Maybe,” I cut in. I don’t want anyone to overhear her. “Can I fill you in later?”

“I hear that’s what he said.”

I choke back a laugh and turn on my laptop.

Liam calls for attention, and the whispers in the room die down, until there is silence. He rises from his seat and strolls over to his stand. I smile at him, my heart racing when he ever so slightly raises his eyebrows.

God, he looks good in that suit…

“Good morning, everyone,” Liam begins.

He paces the front of the room slowly, looking out over his students. “We have a test tomorrow. You’ll remember me talking about it last week. Would someone like to fill me in on what that test might be about?”

Silence fills the room, until a voice in the middle pipes up.

“Or we could just sleep with you and bypass the studying. I hear it works great for some students.”

A shocked whisper rolls through the classroom. I freeze, my stomach churning. I had to have heard wrong. That could not have just happened. But the expression on Liam’s face tells me it did. He frowns at the student. Amy nudges me. I glance at her. She gives me a sympathetic smile, making it obvious to anyone around us that I’m the student in question.

“How about we talk about your private life instead?” he asks pointedly. “I’m just saying, I’ve heard rumors about you, too, but I don’t go spreading them around.” Liam nods when there’s no response. “I didn't think so. But since you’re obviously so well prepared, how about we have that test now?”

An annoyed groan fills the room. Even though no name was mentioned, I feel like people know. This is all my fault. It was that stupid photo. I don’t know why I thought that no one would’ve seen it. Of course they would.

Like every other test I take, I finish well before the allocated time. Normally I’d leave, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. So I sit there and wait, staring at the screen on my laptop, wishing time would hurry up. My stomach churns as I try to come up with a way of dealing with this. I don’t look at Liam, just in case someone is watching. How can I blame people for thinking that I’m getting an easy pass when I pretty much said that in the caption? So stupid.

A message pops up on my screen from Liam.

Professor Sullivan: Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out.

Me: I’m sorry. This is all my fault.A message pops up from Amy.

A: Are you okay?

Me to Amy: I’m fine. Annoyed at myself.

Professor Sullivan: You made a mistake. It happens. Don’t punish yourself over it. We’ll figure this out.

Me to Professor Sullivan: Thank you.I click on the message service when I hear another beep and look up.

Anonymous: Why even bother taking the test when it’s a certain A?I feel sick as I look around at the sea of faces. God, this is a mess. How many people are sitting here, thinking the same thing? How many of them know it’s me? I examine every face I can, but no one gives anything away. Liam would be able to tell me who sent the message, only I don’t want him to know.

Five minutes before the lecture finishes, another message from Liam pops through.

Professor Sullivan: After class, go around to the outside of the theater. There’s another door into this room.The second it finishes, I stand up and hurry out, telling Amy I’ll call her later. My first stop is the bathroom. I need to compose myself before I see Liam. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and take a deep breath. He’s going to know something is wrong, but I’m hoping I can pass it off as what that kid said in class. I breathe in, filling my lungs with air and then release, shaking off my anxieties. I stare at my reflection in the mirror one more time, then I turn around and walk out.Liam stands just inside the door, waiting for me. I squeeze past him, into what feels like a storage closet. I know it’s a risk, meeting him here, but if he’s willing to take it, then so am I. Pressed right up against him, I have very little room, but I don’t mind. After everything that’s happened, it’s comforting, being this close to him.

He stares at me, his eyes clouded with concern and arousal. His fingers sneak beneath my sweater as he strokes my skin, the feel of his touch against me both relaxing and exciting.

“Are you okay?” he asks, frowning at me.