Page 8 of Tangled in His Game

Should I move? But that would be weird, and I don’t know what Victor wants. He might move too. I don’t want to bring any attention to myself yet again, just when everyone was starting to forget about me and tolerate me. Maybe it’s too late for that because everyone is staring at Victor and me. I’m as confused as they are.

“Can I borrow your pen?” he asks, his tone sweet and charming, but there’s something lurking behind his blue eyes. “I bet you have, like, twelve for backup like a good little nerd.” His lips spread into a smile.

“No.” I shoot him a glare.

I have no idea what he’s trying to do, but I want no part in it.

“Ah, right. You’re too poor.” He’s still smiling as if he just said something very nice.

Insane. What the hell is wrong with him? Maybe he’s really taking drugs and his coach and everyone is looking the other way, because I don’t know what other explanation there could be. Or he’s really just a dumb asshole who’s here because of hockey and his rich family.

The professor enters the classroom, and I do my best to pretend Victor isn’t right next to me. But it’s impossible. He has this huge presence around him, and it’s not because of his broad shoulders.

There’s something about him. Some kind of energy. I can feel him next to me. Feel his breath. Feel his gaze.

It’s driving me crazy. As I tap my pen against my notebook, Victor shifts next to me. I lose focus, and the pen slips out of my hand. It rolls over the desk. I reach for it, but I’m too slow. The pen veers to the right and falls right into Victor’s lap.

I groan as he lifts the pen with a smirk. Does he think I did it on purpose? Because that’s so not what happened. I grab the pen, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, our fingers brush just as our gazes meet. A zap of electricity surges through my fingers.

I snatch the pen out of his hand. Why am I so jittery around him? My mouth is dry, and my breathing is faster than it should be. All he’s doing is sitting next to me, but it feels like he’s looming over me.

I lick my lips, even though I’m sure he’s watching me, and I do my best to ignore him. If only he would stop staring and shifting all the damn time. It’s way too distracting.

And his scent... Oh hell, his scent.

It’s like walking through a dark forest. I should be taking notes, but my notebook is mostly empty. What did I say about not letting a guy distract me from my plan?

But Victor isn’t boyfriend material, and I don’t even like him, so I don’t know what’s happening here. All I know is that I can’t breathe when he’s near me.

“I need a volunteer,” the professor says, and I perk up.

Victor leans so close to me that his shoulder presses against mine, and I can’t even hear or comprehend the professor’s words.

“Stop touching me!” I hiss at him as I raise my hand.

“You wish I was touching you,” he whispers into my ear, and his hot breath makes me shudder.

“Noemi?” the professor says.

“Yeah, I volunteer.” Even though I have no idea what I’m volunteering for exactly.

But this is the statistics class. It can’t be anything hard or strange. I’ll ask for all the details later.

“No one else?” The professor looks around the room.

I glance around too, but everyone looks bored. Vanessa’s eyes are shooting daggers at me, and Greg has tilted his head as if he’s listening to the sounds no one else can hear.

“Noemi it is then.” The professor smiles at me. “Thank you so much. Meet me after class for details. I hope you enjoy hockey too.”

I blink at her.

Hockey?

What? Why?

What?!!!!

Victor laughs next to me. “You know, if you told me you wanted to see me play this bad, I would’ve given you a free ticket for the best seats.”

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