He has no shame about the way he looks at me and with every quirk of his head and smirk of his lips, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I swear I plan on ignoring him in every way that counts moving forward, but for this one split second, I let myself enjoy it.
His hand finds the small of my back, gently guiding me further into the classroom. His touch sends a warm tingle up my back before wrapping around my neck. I pray the tinge in my cheeks comes off as a reaction to the cold and not as a response to his hands on me.
“Savannah, honey!” A melodic voice greets me before I’m pulled into a hug. My aunt's lavender scent hits me, and I clear my throat, pulling my gaze from Noah. “Let’s do dinner sometime this week, yeah?”
When she pulls back and cups my face, I smile and nod against her hands, and then just as quickly as she appeared—she’s off, her flowy scarf trailing behind her.
“You two seem close.”
I walk to the far side of the room, with Noah trailing right beside me and we take the last two seats at the end of the row.
“She’s my aunt.”
“Oh.” He looks slightly surprised, but thankfully, he doesn’t ask any questions. He strips off his coat, revealing a loose waffle knit long-sleeve shirt, and when he pushes the sleeves up, revealing his tan forearms, I think I audibly swallow.He leans back in his chair with his legs spread wide under the table, and I don’t know who I want to smack more—him, for looking so good doing something as simple as sitting, or me, for having to work so hard to keep my attention off of him.
“Good morning! Good morning!” My aunt clasps her hands together at her chest. “Alright, go ahead and look at the person sitting next to you.”
I look to the wall at my left before turning my head to a grinning Noah on my right.
“Wonderful! Now introduce yourself to your new partner for the next few weeks.”
To his credit, instead of puffing out his chest like I expect him to, he slides a pen over his curved lips and looks down at the paper on his desk.
“You’ll work together, taking turns interviewing each other. The questions will range in difficulty and it will be up to you how you answer and how hard you push for those answers. Some questions might be as simple as your favorite color. Others are a little morepersonal.” Her eyebrows raise, and someone in the room gives a low whistle. “And some might show you where your limits lie as an interviewer. The goal of this assignment is to gain experience in both conducting an interview and having the first-hand experience of being on the receiving end of an interview.” She hands a stack of papers to the people at the start of each row. “You will work with your partner to complete this exercise and then write a reflective paper on your experiences.”
I spent the rest of class brainstorming any way out of this disaster project, and now, as I head outside with Noah on my heels… I’ve got nothing.
“Alright, partner. Do you want to work out a schedule?”
“Well.” I pull my hat on my head and start walking. “I actually didn’t get to eat this morning, and I can become a different kind of beast when I get hungry. It’s not pretty, really. So, maybe another time?”
“Perfect, neither did I. We could go to the diner on the corner.” His arm brushes against mine, but even through all our layers, the close contact sends another rush of warmth through my body.
I must be ovulating, because shoulder-to-bicep interaction, through at least four layers of clothing, should not warrant this kind of reaction. I clearly cannot be trusted right now. I’m racking my brain for any kind of excuse to get out of this. When I don’t respond, his presence beside me vanishes. I turn to him. The morning sun has risen, peeking through the brick buildings behind him, creating a halo effect behind his head. I squint, partly because of the sunshine, but mostly because it’s hard to want to imagine him as the devil when he’s standing there looking like a literal angel.
“Come on, Savvy. You can still hate me over pancakes.”
A deflated sigh escapes me and my shoulders slump. Hearing him say the words out loud only confirms the thoughts that I’ve been avoiding all weekend. I don’t hate him. I’m actuallyannoyedthat I don’t hate him. It’s easier to ignore someone when you don’t like them. Or, at the very least, when you aren’t forced to work on a project with them.
I gnaw at the skin on my bottom lip. This guy is going to be the reason I have a hole there.
“I don’t hate you.”
“No?” He cocks his head, standing with his hands buried in his pockets. “This is just how you show all your friends affection?”
“I didn’t say we were friends.”
“We could be if you weren’t so against it.”
I eye him skeptically, reminding myself that he stilldoesn’t know who my dad is. At least when guys know who I am, I know their motives. With Noah, I’m at a complete loss as to what he has to gain right now. “You’re trying very hard.”
“Whew.” He wipes a hand across his brow. “For a second there, I was worried you couldn’t tell.” His smile lingers and mine follows.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek, but my lips betray me anyway. I can’t think straight when his jade and honey eyes bore into mine and I force myself to look away just as a blush warms my neck.
The hostess at the diner on campus is slumped over her stand, tapping her manicured nails against her chin while she smacks her gum.
Noah rests a hand on the stand, and her eyes travel the length of his arms, across his chest, and up to his face. I don’t even need to look up, to know that one side of his full lips is pulled up slightly at the corner.
