I glance at the sticker on the back of my laptop case. Sure enough, same frog. Just slightly bigger.
“It’s not a thing,” I say, flipping the page. “I just like frogs.”
Austin doesn’t buy it. “You definitely have a reason.”
“Maybe I just think he looks funny.”
“Come on.” He leans forward, forearms braced on the table.
I let out a breath, pressing my pen to the corner of the worksheet. “Why do you care?”
“Because,” he says, with a shrug, “I want to know more about you.”
I hesitate. Not because I don’t know what to say, more because I didn’t think anyone would ask.
“It’s dumb.”
He smiles, his lips slowly lifting into a smile that makes my belly warm. “Try me.”
I follow his gaze to the frog pin. “My dad gave me this when I was a kid.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A frog?”
I shrug, a little smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah. He said frogs are survivors. No matter how many times they get knocked down, they keep hopping back up.”
His expression softens. “Sounds like he’s a pretty smart guy.”
“Yeah. He was.” I glance down at the pin, my fingers brushing over it. “He’s been gone for a while now, but I still like to keep it with me, as a reminder.”
Austin doesn’t say anything, but he’s still watching me.
I clear my throat and shake my head. “Told you it was dumb.”
He shakes his head slowly, a quiet smile spreading across his lips that makes his whole face soften. “No. It’s pretty cool.” His eyes meet mine. “I like learning things about you.”
The words catch me off guard. I want to laugh it off, but the honest way he says it makes me pause.
I tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, my fingers trembling just a little. “Well… don’t get used to it.”
He chuckles. “Too late for that. I’m a quick learner when it comes to you.”
He leans back in his chair and stretches, long arms hooking behind his head. His hoodie rides up just enough to reveal smooth, tanned skin—a flat stomach riddled with abs that dips low, where a thin line of dark hair trails teasingly beneath the waistband of his pants.
I definitely do not stare.
Maybe just for half a second.
Okay, fine, maybe a second and a half.Max.
I rip my eyes away and look back down at the worksheet, but I can’t ignore the way my chest is thumping. I hate how easily he gets under my skin. Or maybe I don’t hate it as much as I think I’m supposed to.
I clear my throat and peek up at him. “I told you about the frog. Now you owe me the last three questions.”
“Maisie,” Austin groans, dragging out the word, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, we’ve been at this for over an hour.”
I flick a glance at my watch. “Forty-five minutes.”
He shoots me a look that’s half annoyed, half pleading. “I’m starving.”
