Rowdy Boy

“Attention, please,” the teacher says, clapping his hands so we shut up. “Open your books to page fifteen.”

I don’t think I’ve ever read about music, but there’s a first for everything. When I took this class, I’d imagined we’d be singing our lungs out, but maybe that part comes after we finish reading the book.

“This assignment will be in pairs,” the teacher says. Right then, everyone begins to bargain with one another, whispering who’s going to partner with who. But then the teacher speaks up again, “I’ll decide who partners with who.” Then he gazes at me.

Anyone but Cole.

Please.

Anyone but him.

“Monica, you’ll work together with Cole.”

My eyes widen.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Just my fucking luck.

I don’t even hear what the teacher is saying anymore or who Mel is paired with because all I can think about is Cole, sitting in the corner of the room near the window. I’ve never seen him wear his uniform according to the school’s dress code. Something about him always has to stand out. Today, it’s a leather jacket.

His head is slightly turned toward me, a half-smirk on the schmuck’s face as though he owns the place. His lips part, and his tongue dives out to wet his lips, and it suddenly becomes hard to breathe.

Get your act together, Monica. It’s just an assignment, nothing else.

“Go on then, go find your partners, and we’ll start the assignment,” the teacher says.

But all I hear is the word “partner” over and over again.

That isn’t a word I’d ascribe to Cole Travis, ever.

Nor did I expect to have him look me straight in the eyes again after our last conversation. I thought he was finally apologizing for his friends, and then he vanished as though it meant nothing. Not a single look or word was uttered. Nothing. It was like I didn’t exist anymore, and it confused me.

So then why is he looking at me with those hungry eyes again like some wolf ready to devour me? And why is it so hot in here all of a sudden?

I muster the courage and hold my breath while I march toward him and sit down on the empty seat beside him.

“You sure you wanna sit down there?” he asks with that same husky voice that manages to push all my buttons.

“Why, what did you do?” I ask, wondering if he placed some kind of booby trap or something.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” he says, leaning back in his chair with that same casual swagger he always has. “The question is … what am I going to do?”

I gulp, my body freezing up as he moves closer and places a hand on the back of my seat.

“You sure got the wrong partner, didn’t you?” he mutters.

“Can we just start?” I ask, pointing at the book in front of him, which remains untouched.

“No,” he says, eyes still completely homed in on me. “I’d rather look at you.”

Jesus Fuck.

That made my whole body tingle.

Did he really just say that?

No, he’s just messing with me, I’m sure of it. He saw me gravitate toward him the moment he started playing music. He noticed the attraction. And now he’s using it against me to play me. To humiliate me.

“We’re in class, and we’re supposed to learn,” I reiterate, trying to get some sense into him.

“I already know everything about music. Go ahead, ask.”

I raise a brow at him, and he does too in such a playful way that it’s hard not to smile.

He points at me. “See? I knew you could smile.”

“Cole, really?”

“What? I’m not here to learn anything,” he replies. “And I don’t think you are either.”

“I took this class because I like music, that’s it,” I reply, opening my own book.

He narrows his eyes. “You tell yourself that.”

“What, you think I picked this school or class because of you?” I snort. “I didn’t even know you went here. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know your band existed at all.”

His smile disappears, and there’s a twitch right below his eyes. “Didn’t look like it when you were staring at me at practice.”

“Like I said … I enjoy good music, that’s all,” I say.

“So, you think I’m good?”

I sigh, trying not to let his obvious taunts get to me. I open the page to the chapter we’re supposed to be working on. “Can we get to work now?”

“Not interested,” he replies.

“Well, then why are you even here?”

He shrugs. “Easy credits.”

I snort and roll my eyes. “What a surprise.”

“What?” he scoffs. I focus my attention on the book instead of him, but within seconds he grabs it off my table and holds it hostage. “You think I’m a bad guy, don’t you?”

“Don’t start this now, please,” I say, and I look around class to see if I can find the teacher, but he’s busy with another group. Everyone’s working hard except for us, and no one seems to notice. “Give it back.”