Page 15 of If You Say So

I-I…like it. The way his face is lit with joy—Idid that, put that smile there, that light in his eyes.

Me.

“No shit, dude?” I ask skeptically.

“No shit.”

I let out a loudwhoopand pump my fist in the air. “Hell yes!”

“But…”

“Oh, fuck me.” My high is gone just as quickly as it came because I know—know—this means scouring the paper for at least another three hours. I groan and drop my head into my hands, pulling at my auburn locks in agitation.

“I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer.”

And straight to my dick his words go.

Another groan escapes me before I’m able to catch it, but he ignores me and continues.

“It’s notthatbad of a but. I just think you could wow him with this if you wanted, really stick it to him for giving you shit over your missing assignments. You’re not stupid, and it pisses me off when they continually insinuate that you are because you don’t do your homework.” A red flush covers his cheeks, a sign that he’s growing annoyed, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t even get me started on that jackass Hang.”

I swear I’m reading way too much into every word he says lately because the tone of his voice, the force behind his words—it’s all so much…more.He doesn’t sound like a buddy who’s there to have your back through your difficulties.

He sounds like a pissed-off boyfriend, like he’s madatHang for the way he treats me.

Huh.

“You think I could write something better?”

“I know you can.” He says it like he’s never been surer of anything in his life, and his words breathe life into me, giving me confidence.

“Okay, okay.” I grin. “Help me out then.”

I scoot closer and pull my paper from his grasp. He uses his pen to reach over and point out a section. “This argument could be stronger.”

“Stronger how? Any ideas?”

“Glad you asked…”

Blake begins to ramble on about how I can argue against the registration system more and I listen…kind of.

My thoughts drift to places they shouldn’t when he reaches over and circles another paragraph on the paper then waves his hands in the air, talking loudly and animatedly about whatever subject we’re discussing…I couldn’t actually tell you what it is, because I have completely forgotten.

What are we doing again?

He shifts closer, the heat coming off him causing beads of sweat to pile up on the back of my neck. He’s too close—I can smell him, and holy fuck does he smellgood.I want to lean over and rub my nose along his exposed neck.

“Uh, Nate?” His voice is husky, the rasp sending a jolt down my spine.

“Y-Yep?” I barely manage to utter.

“Did you just sniff me?”

Fuck. Did I?

I realize then that I’ve mindlessly crept closer to him, my face mere inches from being nestled into the crook of his neck.

Oh hell…

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