Page 62 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

BRYNN! Get a hold of yourself.

“So, Brynn,” Sam says, drawing out my name as he hands me my cup. “About last Friday...”

My heart leaps into my throat. There are so many things he could bring up about last Friday. What will it be? The success of the study session? My imagined kiss? I really hope he’s not going to rehash our argument.

“Mid-terms went well, so I guess our extended study group was a success.” He tips his cup to his lips.

I blow out a forceful breath. “Yeah, I mean, the professor said the majority of the class passed with a C or higher, but that doesn’t mean they all passed.”

“Still better than the first exam.”

I beam inwardly. I did that. I helped the class earn better grades, but when a nagging little voice in the back of my head reminds me that Sam also helped, I grimace.

“You okay?” he asks.

I turn my grimace into a tight smile. I can’t take all the credit, but that doesn’t mean I have to give him any praise. “Yeah, just thinking about how we still have work to do.”

“So you think the professor wants us to keep the study group going?”

“Probably. She’d say something like ‘never stop working as long as there are improvements to be made.’”

“You sound exactly like her.” Sam rolls his eyes.

I scoff. “Well, I’ve only had her every semester since I was a freshman.”

“My condolences.” Sam lifts his cup, tilting it toward me before taking a sip. “So, I guess this means we’re stuck with each other for a while longer, huh?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” My lips curl into a sly grin as an idea comes to mind. “Unless you want to hand everything over to me.”

He shakes his head, curls flopping about. “Ha! Nice try. I’m not about to give up something that’s going to land me that internship.”

“That internship is mine,” I bite out, putting my hands on my hips. “I’ve been first in line for almost three years; there’s no way you’re getting it.”

Sam’s face twists into mock sympathy. “Aw, Brynn. You’re so cute when someone knocks you down a peg.”

“Excuse me?”

“The look on your face right now is exactly the same as that night at the bar when I got on the bull. And it’s also how you looked when you found out about my ninety-eight percent. It’s adorable.”

My red Solo cup crinkles as I tighten my grip on it. Nostrils flaring, I glare at Sam and his stupid self-satisfied expression.

Seemingly unaffected by my anger, he opens his mouth to speak, but his attention flicks to the side and the teasing glint in his eyes turns to panic in one second flat. He grabs my wrist, pulling me around the corner and through a doorway. Before he shuts the door, I grab a glimpse of boxes and cans of food.

“Um, Sam, why are we in the pantry?”

With a groan, he lets his forehead fall to the door. “Because Maya just walked in.”

“Maya? From lab?”

“Yeah.” He flicks the light switch, bathing us in low, incandescent light. “If she would’ve seen me, she never would’ve left me alone.”

I fold my arms. “Would’ve saved me some trouble.”

He turns, a glare on his face, but says nothing.

“What? I say that because you and I were about to rip into each other again. Technically, Maya stopped what would have turned into a brawl.”

His mouth ticks up on one side. “I think I could take you.”

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