Page 71 of The Charade

I considered telling him that I'd take my chances. But since I really didn't know what would happen if I was late for curfew, I used the lever to put my seat back to the upright position as well. "Fine."

Carter held his hand out to help me up. Then he patted the pockets of his jeans as if checking for something. "I must have left my keys in my gym shorts."

We walked down the hall to his bedroom. While he went to dig his shorts from the dirty laundry basket in his closet, I took the opportunity to look around at the things Carter held special enough to display in his room. He had a few knickknacks here and there, and a framed photo of him, Mack, Hunter, and Nash wearing basketball uniforms sat on his desk. Another photo of him and his siblings standing on a yacht with the ocean in the background was beside that one.

In the corner next to the wall with all the constellations on it was a telescope, which made me think that maybe Carter was interested in astronomy.

There was a giant bookshelf along the wall beside his bed with at least a hundred books. There was everything from personal development books to the classics, to biographies, to popular fantasy novels and mysteries, and even a stack of Calvin and Hobbes comic books in one corner.

He even had a row of books in Spanish.

"You have quite the book selection," I commented when he came to stand beside me. Even though there were a few inches of space between us, the electric charge that was always humming under the surface when we were together was there again.

"What can I say? I like reading. You can live a thousand different lives without ever having to leave your room."

"I like that." I glanced up at him briefly, liking once again how tall he felt beside me. "Do you have a favorite genre?"

He shrugged, his elbow brushing against my arm with the movement and sparking my skin to life. "I should probably say that the personal development books or the biographies are my favorite since those help me keep up the scholarly vibe I try to put off." He peeked over at me, a smirk playing at his lips. "But I guess if you were to hook me up to a lie detector machine, I'd have to admit that a really good fantasy, like one from Brandon Sanderson, is actually the kind of book I prefer to get lost in when I'm reading for pleasure."

"Would it be safe to say that when you pulled out that Spanish personal development book during my first dinner at the academy, you were really just trying to impress me?"

He rubbed his neck with his hand, a slight blush showing on his cheeks. "Iwasactually reading that book. But…" He shrugged. "Maybe subconsciously I was trying to let you think I was a serious student who didn't have time for trivial things, like making friends with the pretty new girl at school."

"So you thought I was pretty when you met me?" I arched an eyebrow, liking that he was giving me some insight into his first impression of me.

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But since I had already decided that I wasn't going to waste time on dating this year, I tried to not let myself notice."

"Ah yes. Because girls are such a huge distraction from the more important things, like getting straight A's and reading impressive books while you eat."

"To be fair, I was still nursing my wounded ego after having my ex-girlfriend dump me for a prince."

"And how has your heart been doing the past few weeks?" I put my hand over his chest where his heart was. "Has it gotten any better?"

He covered my hand with his, the warmth of his skin on mine feeling incredible. "Would you believe me if I told you it might just be better than it's ever been?"

When I lifted my gaze to meet his, the intensity in his eyes scorched my insides, because I had the idea that they might be telling me I was part of the reason why.

His gaze fell to my lips, and I instinctively licked them, anticipating what it would be like to kiss him again.

But since I still wasn't sure exactly where his feelings were concerning me, I tried to push those thoughts away.

He broke eye contact and moved toward his desk. After opening the top drawer, he pulled out a familiar contract with my purple handwriting scrawled across the bottom of the piece of paper.

"I have a confession to make," he said.

"You do?" I asked, feeling breathless for some reason at the sight of that contract and the possible reasons for him to bring it out.

"That third rule on my list of demands actually surprised me when we went over it."

"It surprised you?" I narrowed my eyes, not understanding.

He nodded and leaned against his desk, partially sitting on it. "You see, I never wrote that rule."

"You didn't?"

He shook his head. "It was actually put there as a prank by my conniving little brother."

"Nash put it there?" I gasped, shocked because when we'd gone over it, Carter had not seemed one bit surprised at its existence. He'd played the part of the arrogant jerk so well.

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