Page 68 of A Class of Her Own

“Nothing,” I stated, tearing my eyes from him.

“Hmm. I think I need to try this cake, but I’m not a frosting expert.”

“There’s probably a recipe in there for it.”

He was silent for a moment, flipping pages. “What are you cutting out for your vision board?”

“I don’t want to tell you,” I replied honestly. I’d opened up to him a lot recently, but this wasn’t something I even shared with my thornback besties. I’d been clipping things and tucking them behind me somewhat under the couch to keep them from his prying eyes. “It’s personal.”

He closed the magazine and wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I like personal stuff.”

“Pass.”

He put the magazine off to the side and sat his scissors on top of him. “I double pass your pass, which negates it.”

“What?” I frowned, furrowing my eyebrows. “That isn’t a thing.”

“In my world it’s a thing.”

“We’re not in your world right now.”

He moved to hands and knees and started crawling toward me. “I just want a tiny peek at your pictures. Just to get my mind thinking. I won’t steal your ideas.”

I pushed the stack further under the couch. “Not happening. I’m setting a firm boundary here. I’m not even going to glue them on until after you leave.”

“How firm is your boundary?” he asked as he came around me and bent his arms to look under the couch.

I leaned forward, blocking him with an arm. “Very, very firm.”

I should have seen it coming when the smile crept onto his face, but I still managed to be shocked when he knelt upright, grabbed me, and threw me on top of my couch before diving down to snag the pictures. Having not grown up with brothers or guy friends, I had no idea what this meant. Was he teasing? Did he genuinely not care that I’d said no? Did he think he could use his physicality to get his way? Anger whipped through me, and as he went back down onto his stomach, I launched myself off the couch, landing smack on his back.

He let out a grunt and laughed. “Get off me.”

I grabbed at his arm as he reached under the couch. “No way. Those are private.”

When it became apparent that his arm was longer and stronger than mine, I used the best weapon I had in my arsenal. My pointy joints. I scrambled up into a kneeling position and pressed my kneecaps into his lower back. As expected, he reacted as though I’d stabbed him.

“Did you bring knives to this fight?” he cried out, doing his best to roll over and unseat me.

I held on tight and doubled down, pushing my elbows against his shoulders. “Get away from my pictures.”

He was shaking and rolling back and forth, and I realized that he was laughing. He found this to be great entertainment. Confused and unsure, I eased up enough that he managed to flip both of us over. We lay on our sides facing each other, and I watched as he laughed and reached for my arms, wrapping his hands around my elbows.

“Jeez, those things should be registered as weapons. You are seriously boney.”

My anger dissipated like drops of water, a little at a time. “You weren’t actually going to breach my privacy?”

He shook his head. “As much as I like the phrase ‘breach my privacy,’ no. But it was totally worth it to find out you fight dirty.”

I licked my lips and fought a grin. “You started it by launching me onto the couch.”

His hands slid up my arms and wrapped around my back as he scooted me toward him. “Worth it to break down that wall you’ve been hiding behind.”

I rolled my eyes. “What wall?”

“The same one you built after our ski day.” He stroked one hand down my spine, and tension eased out as awareness crept in. “Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

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