Page 50 of The Prom Queen Project
“If you’re just gonna be an ass—”
I shook my head from side to side, a smile still tugging at my lips. “No, no. I’m sorry. A graphic designer is cool. Is that why you’re always doodling on your assignments?”
“Ew. Don’t say it like that.”
“Fine.” I darted my eyes toward the base of my skull. “Sketching. Is that why you’re alwayssketchingon your assignments?”
“I guess.” He pursed his lips. “When I picture something in my head, it’s like, I just have to draw it.”
“So, those tattoos…” I trailed off, letting my gaze shift down toward his arms.
“I saw them in a dream.”
“A dream about squiggles and roses?”
“Close.” His laughter came out light and airy. “Snakes and roses.”
“Uh-huh.” I arched my brow, staring at him skeptically. This intrigued me even more. “Go on.”
“I was at the beach swimming when out of nowhere the ocean turned into a bed of snakes trying to suffocate me. To make it stop, I just imagined roses instead. I took that dream as a sign that if I try hard enough, no matter how bad things get, I can make it good again.”
“That’s kinda poetic, in a way.”
“Well, I’m no Shakespeare, but I thought so, too. Hence the tattoos. I designed them.”
Elliot balled up his sleeves, leaving both tattoos on full display as my eyes hungrily traced up and down his bicep. His muscles tensed as he held out his arm.
My fingers tingled as I resisted the urge to trace the ink etched into his skin. I wet my lips with my tongue. Definitely, not Shakespeare.Wayhotter than Shakespeare. My spine stiffened.
“They’re really good, by the way.”
“Thanks. I do some digital stuff too, but I prefer dry media.”
“You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“Maybe I will,” he said, his voice dipping into a sultry whisper. His eyes became hooded. “Your turn, Princess.”
“Um.” I pushed my hair to one side, twiddling with the ends of the strands. “I’m pretty good at trivia.”
A wide, toothy grin spread across his face, laughter pouring out of his mouth.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. I actually won eleven times in a row,” I boasted while crossing one arm over the other and leaning against the back of the sofa. “Twelve if you count the time I rose to the top of the leaderboard inTrivia Crack.”
“That phone game from a century ago?”
“Yep.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmhm.”
“Who was on your team? Stephen Hawking?”
“Just me and my sister.”
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried about your sanity.”
