No Bad Days (Fisher Brothers 1)

“It wasn’t so bad last time, was it?”

“Depends on your definition of bad.”

“I think you secretly like when I sit near you, Jess Michaelson,” I said, saying her full name so I could watch a blush spread over her cheeks.

One shoulder lifted in a small shrug. “I might like it a little.”

I leaned close, my lips almost grazing her ear as I whispered, “Go to lunch with me today.”

She jerked away and turned to face me. “I can’t.”

I knew she was lying. What I didn’t know was why. “Why not?”

“I have plans,” she said, then turned away as if she was in control of the conversation.

She wasn’t.

“What kind of plans?”

Her lips flattened as her gaze met mine. “Plans that are none of your business. I can’t go to lunch with you. I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Releasing a long breath, I slumped back into my chair. “I’m not.”

She smiled, shaking her head and focusing her attention on our professor.

Inside, I reeled with questions. Why she was trying to stay away from me? I knew when girls were interested in me, and Jess Michaelson was definitely interested. I remembered her mentioning that she was seeing someone, and wondered what the lucky bastard was like and if I knew him.

“Is this because of your boyfriend?”

She leaned closer to whisper without turning to look at me. “No, why? Can’t fathom a girl actually not being interested in you?”

I held back a laugh. “No, I can fathom that,” I said, mimicking her word choice. “But you are interested. So what I can’t fathom is why you’re pretending like you’re not.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re arrogant?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I raised my eyebrows at her, trying my best to flirt as the professor cleared his throat and glared at us.

Shit. This girl was going to get me in all kinds of trouble. I shut my mouth and decided I’d leave her alone.

For now.

The next time Jess walked into class, she was wearing a sweet little blue dress, and I had to tamp down the hormones that raged at the sight of her. If I didn’t know any better, I would almost think she was dressing this tempting on purpose just to wind me up.

Fingering the poker chip in my pocket, I watched her from our regular seats, which I’d commandeered in the hope that she’d willingly come and sit next to me. She glanced around the room before drawing in a long breath that made her chest rise. Rolling her eyes at me, she headed my way. When she sat down, I resisted the urge to rest my hand on her exposed thigh, as if she were my girl and I had every right.

Staring at the dusting of freckles across her nose, I thought how they only added to her attractiveness, and again, I had to stop one of my body parts from brushing against one of hers. I wanted to touch her, longed to know what her skin felt like under my fingertips.

But when class ended, she practically sprinted out of her seat. No doubt trying to get away from me, but I was quicker than her escape plan.

“Jess, wait up.”

When she slowed her pace but didn’t stop, I hurried to catch up. “Where you headed?”

“The student union.”

“Me too. Maybe we could go together?”

Jess stopped walking altogether and turned to face me, forcing the other students to dodge and weave around us as they poured out of the classroom.