“I guess Hollows,” he says, using the wrong word.
I think of Hermione, my favorite character from the books, her voice in my head saying, “It’s hallows, not hollows.”
Asshole.
He sure as hell had me fooled.
“You will do anything to pass the class, won’t you?”
His eyebrows rise in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“You know nothing about Harry Potter.”
Instead of replying, he laughs, using the awkward pause between us to concoct his next lie. “Not true. I love Harry Potter.”
“Okay, then answer this question. Which of the Weasley brothers dies?”
“Um… Harry.”
I shake my head, unable to contain my laughter. “Fred. Oh my God, I can’t believe you, Tucker. Did you pretend to like the same things as me to get in my pants or to con your way into an A?”
“Both,” he admits.
“Unbelievable,” I grunt.
I press my palms to the floor, ready to leave, but Tucker grabs my arm. He tightens his grip to hold me in place. Our eyes meet, and when they do, I can’t breathe. I’m angry, frustrated, upset, and in no mood to deal with him anymore.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” His baby blues burn a hole through me. “I’m trying.”
“Why lie? It wasn’t necessary.”
“I Googled a few things after my brother pointed out that your screen name has to do with Harry Potter. I haven’t watched the movies or read the books.”
I snort. “Obviously.”
“But I’d like to watch them with you.” He points at the projection screen. “So, don’t leave.”
His words cut deep, hitting me where it hurts. I’m so used to men giving up on me that I don’t even know what to do with someone wanting to spend time with me. Maybe I’ve been focusing too much on the past. I can watch a movie with him and decide whether to bother after tonight.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay. Consider this your last chance. It’s the only one you’ll get from me.”
A smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “You won’t regret it.”
Over an hour into the movie, my ass goes numb from sitting on the hard floor. I rock back and forth, and when that doesn’t work, I stretch my legs and lean back, using my palms to support my weight.
Tucker brushes his lips along my ear, the heat from his breath sending chills down my spine. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say in a hushed tone. “I just need to move around.”
He sits back and pats his chest. “You can lean on me. Get comfortable.”
Even in the darkness, I can see the cocky smirk on his lips. He’s such an ass. He’ll use any opportunity to touch me. So, why am I taking him up on his offer?
I curl up next to Tucker, and he hooks his arm around my back, pulling me into his chest. It’s as hard as a rock, chiseled to perfection. So are his arms. Holy shit, his biceps are massive. Now, my body is even more aware of him. All of him. And I can’t stop thinking about Tucker in inappropriate ways.
We stay this way until the person next to Tucker spills their drink on the floor before us. I squeal without meaning to be so loud. Tucker moves me to the side as the liquid splashes his jeans and sneakers. The girl on his right offers him her blanket to dry off.
Tucker dabs at the soda on his jeans and sneakers and sighs. “I need to wash my hands,” he tells me. “I’ll be right back.”
