Page 61 of Trust Me Always

I huff, grumbling internally.

Yay, another thing for me to suck at.

I get to work, adding all the components together until a thick, slightly sticky clay is formed. It grows denser and denser with each roll of my hands through it, and then I glare down at the mess, wondering what the hell I should try to create.

I look to Lilly, who seems to be making an actual lily, the lines of the flower already forming and obvious. Another girl has a basic heart with an arrow through, while the guy beside her puts us all to shame with his cat-making skills. To my right, the guy whose name I can’t remember but who told me at the start of the semester he joined this class on a whim, same as I did, is making a simple football, but the texture he’s adding to it looks legit.

I smile as an idea sparks. I think it over for a moment, take a deep breath, and laugh to myself.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter and get to work.

Starting slowly, I create a lower base using my pointer fingers, pressing the clay in a deep curve on each side, rounding it out toward the top. As soon as that’s done, I smile because I know this is actually going to work.

For the first time, class comes to a close too fast, and I nearly pout, but I take an extra minute or two to put my final touches on.

Stepping back, I beam at my work, looking over at my professor as she comes up.

“Is that…” She looks to me.

I laugh. “Yep.”

“Nice work, Cox. I think you might have found your element. Get it in the kiln and get your station cleared.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I do as I’m told, thinking maybe this class won’t be so bad after all.

With a little extra pep in my step, I head out and over to the cafeteria for some lunch.

Burrito bowl with extra guac in hand, I take a seat. I no sooner take my first bite than a pair of thick thighs appears across the table.

I look up, following the tight stretch of a deep green T-shirt, molded perfectly to a firm chest, and into a pair of green eyes that still spark something inside me, making me swallow my tongue. He knows it too, his lips twitching at whatever he sees staring back at me.

“Hi, Cameron,” Alister all but purrs. “Think yourboyfriendwould mind if I joined you?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Alister

Her face is so expressive.That was one of the first things I learned about her.

She can’t hide how she feels, but more than that, I don’t think she tries to. She doesn’t shy away from her likes and dislikes, her desires, and the look in her eye tells me she feels a little of all three of those things for me.

The dislike sucks, but it’s outweighed by the others. I can work with that.

“So will he?”

Cameron blinks up at me, going the silent route as she takes a big bite of her food, her teeth scraping her fork to drive the point home—I’m on her nerves already. But that’s fine. At least she’s no longer telling me to fuck off.

I take a seat across from her, and she folds her feet beneath her, sitting up a little higher.

“Glad to know he’s not threatened by me,” I tease.

“Please.” She stabs her chicken, lifting her fork as she smirks at me. “He’s threatened by no one.”

“Because you’re so in love?” I joke. “Or because he wouldn’t know how to take a relationship serious enough to know he should be threatened?”

“You know nothing about him,” she snaps.

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