Sweet Little Nothing

I pause outside of the classroom, take a few deep breaths, and then head in.

Like always, Sterling’s behind the podium, looking disinterested. Not wanting to draw his attention, I grab the first open seat I see. Unfortunately, it just so happens to be in the front of the classroom, directly in his line of sight.

He glances my way right as my butt hits the seat. My cheeks heat, and he smirks.

So much for not drawing his attention.

I want so badly to move to a desk in the back of the room, but I’m here now, and it would only make me look weak to move now.

Also, I don’t want him to think I’m some scared little baby bird. We kissed. So what. No big deal. Or at least, that’s the lie I’m choosing to tell myself. Maybe if I say it enough times, I’ll believe it, too.

At nine on the dot, Sterling dives into his lecture. As much as it pains me to admit it, I could drown in the deep, smooth pitch of his voice.

The upside is, I’m so tuned in to his every word, that note-taking is a breeze.

Chapter Nineteen

Sterling

I end my lecture with ten minutes to spare. “Please divide yourselves into groups of three and use the remaining time to discuss the four components of social perceptions and how they affect human behavior. This will be the main focus of Thursday’s lecture, so please be prepared to share what you discussed today.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket with an incoming text for what feels like the hundredth time.

It’s Rob. I know it is. Without even looking, I know.

He’s ramped up from weekly check-ins to daily. The fact that all I ever tell him is to be patient isn’t helping matters. Patience has never been one of Rob’s strong suits.

With my class preoccupied, I slide my phone from my pocket and pull up our text thread.

Rob: How are things?

Rob: Any updates?

Rob: Fucking answer me, Sterling.

Rob: If you can’t get it done, I’ll find someone who can.

Jesus. Talk about escalation. It’s like he’s gone completely off the deep end, and at this point, I’m not sure if I should toss him a life preserve or let him drown.

Me: Chill out. I’ve got everything under control.

Rob: Where are you?

Me: In class.

Rob: Fine. I want an update, a real one, by Sunday, Sterling.

Me: You’ll have one.

With less than a minute left, I dismiss everyone and settle back into my seat to wait.

After all, timing is everything.

I watch Emmalyn like a hawk as she packs away her belongings and hefts her messenger bag up, slinging the strap over her shoulder. I wait until she is nearly to the door before calling out her name.

She turns to look at me, her eyes wide with trepidation.

“A word, please.” It pains me to tack on that last word, but if she’s to believe I’m turning over a new leaf, manners are a must.

Indecision paints her every feature, before she finally turns and comes to me, just like I knew she would.

Summer glares at her as she walks by, intentionally knocking her shoulder into Emmy’s.

I cover my smirk with a yawn before adopting a carefully neutral expression, as I file away a reminder to employ Summer’s particular brand of bitchy before all’s said and done.

“You wanted to see me?” she asks.

I wait until we’re alone before replying.

“I did. I wanted to see if you’d like to retake the quiz on Tuesday. That’d give you the weekend to go over the correct materials.”

“What’s the catch?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

Smart girl.

“Why do you assume there’s a catch?”

“Nothing in life is free, Sterling. Especially not your kindness.”

I can’t help but grin at her candor. “I suppose you’re right. This offer does come with strings attached.”

Her eyes flit between me and the door as she debates whether or not she should hear me out.

Finally, after what feels like an excruciating eternity, she says, “Name them... your terms, that is.”

A pleased feeling stirs inside of me, even as I suppress my grin. “Lunch.”

“What?”

“Let me take you to lunch.”

“What?” she asks again, parroting herself.

“If you want to retake the quiz next week, let me take you to lunch today. Do try and keep up, Emmalyn. They say you’re smart.”

She snorts out a derisive laugh. “Definitely smart enough to know going anywhere with you is a bad idea.”

“Are you scared?” I ask, half taunting and half genuinely curious.

“Women are taught from a young age not to intentionally put themselves into dangerous situations. Something tells me being alone with you is most definitely dangerous.”

“But we’re alone now,” I press, needing her to take me up on this offer. My entire plan hinges on her cooperation.

“Do you swear this isn’t just another game?”

“It’s not a game, Emmalyn.”

Hook.

“And you swear I’ll get to retake the quiz?”