I take a seat in the same spot as last time, making myself comfortable in my chair while waiting for Olivia to walk through the door. Not even five minutes later, Olivia enters through the large double doors with Delilah, both girls giggling about something.
“Hey, Finch.” I smile, pulling out her chair for her.
“Hey.” She smiles warmly, thanking me while shrugging off her backpack.
Once Delilah and Olivia are in their seats, Delilah leans over the desktop to look at me. “I heard Olivia found another ride home yesterday,” she says, eyes gleaming with interest.
“Yeah. I couldn’t have her sitting in the library for three hours bored out of her mind,” I tease.
“So you guys ended up having a lot of fun last night?” Delilah continues, her voice playfully suggestive and eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Delilah,” Olivia scolds her friend in a low, warning tone, shooting her a look that doesn’t seem to faze Delilah one bit.
I chuckle. “Yeah, her dad makes a mean lasagna.”
Olivia gives me an appreciative smile for not taking Delilah’s teasing implication to heart.
“Wait,” Rat Boy cuts in, stopping as he pulls out his chair. “You two hung out last night?”
“Yeah. I drove her home and stayed for dinner,” I inform him, trying my best to hold back the smug tone in my voice.
He shoots me a glare before swinging his gaze to Olivia. “I could have driven you home yesterday. Why didn’t you call me?” he asks a little too sternly, making me involuntarily clench my fists. Who the fuck does he think he is?
Olivia shrugs. “Bronx was right there and offered first.”
His beady little eyes turn to slits, as he’s clearly displeased with her answer. “Why didn’t you drive her home?” he snaps at Delilah, his tone accusing.
Still unfazed, but now slightly irritated, Delilah turns to him with a bland expression. “I had something come up last minute,” she explains vaguely, pissing him off further.
“Next time you need a ride, call me,” he tells Olivia, his tone more of a demand than a polite request.
I drape my arm over the back of Olivia’s chair, hoping to give this kid an aneurism since he’s being a total possessive asshole. “She can call whoever she wants,” I shoot back calmly, despite feeling anything but calm, irritation vibrating in my veins.
This kid is getting on my last nerve. I get that he probably has a huge crush on Olivia, but that doesn’t give him the right to act like he owns her. Unless he’s her boyfriend. I never really considered that a possibility. But based on how they interact, I highly doubt it. And even if he was her boyfriend, she can do whatever the hell she wants.
Olivia gives me an appreciative glance as Rat Boy huffs, unable to come up with a logical comeback, then takes a seat on the other side of Delilah.
The legs of the empty chair next to me screech as they scrape against the floor. I turn my head to catch a flash of raven hair, the curtain of long silky strands being flicked over a bare sun-kissed shoulder to expose a sharp smile and smoldering green eyes I know all too well.
“Hi, Bronx,” Adrianna says in a sickeningly sweet, flirty voice, as she and her posse slip into our row.
“Adrianna,” I say curtly, a new sense of irritation surging.
“These seats aren’t taken, right?” she asks, her smile venomous.
Before I can say anything, the professor strolls into the lecture hall, wasting no time turning on the projector and starting the presentation.
Ten minutes into the lecture, I feel a hand land on my right knee and my body involuntarily stiffens. I snap my head toward Adrianna, only getting a glimpse of her profile. She carries on taking her notes, acting innocent, but I can tell she’s trying to bite back a smirk.
Not wanting to cause a scene, I let it slide. That is until her hand travels upward.
Abruptly, I drop my pen and slip my hand under the table to capture her wrist, halting her actions. I snap my gaze in her direction, once again only getting a glimpse of her profile as she pretends to be focused on her notes. But this time she doesn’t even try to hide her smirk.
I lean over in my chair, my lips inches from her ear. “You better knock it off,” I warn quietly, only causing the smirk on her face to deepen, and I know she sees my threat as a challenge.
A few moments later, when I’m sure she’s not going to try anything, I slowly let go of her wrist and pick my pen back up, scrambling to scribble down the notes I missed. Not even a minute later her hand brusquely travels from my midthigh to grip me through my jeans. I nearly bolt up from my chair, the action catching a few people’s attention.
I cough awkwardly to try to mask my outburst, rushing to grip Adrianna’s wrist and push it away, all the while trying not to cause more of a scene with my frantic movements.
