Page 10 of Practice Makes Perfect
Even though he barely knows I exist.
I try desperately hard not to stare as Linc leans over the table to line up a shot, at least until his shirt rides up just enough to reveal taut abs. They draw my gaze in like a black hole, the sight making my mouth go dry, and at thatprecisemoment I realize coming tonight was abigmistake.
Oh, boy.
I take a large swig of my cider, nearly choking when Linc makes eye contact with me mid-drink. His right eyebrow arches up as he sinks the ball without even looking. The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile that shouldn’t affect me this much, but my body apparently didn’t get the memo.
“Show-off,” I mutter, but the music’s too loud for him to hear me.
“What was that?” Lea shouts over the music, leaning in from my left.
“Nothing!” I yell back. “Just admiring the, uh, decor.”
Lea gives me a look that says she’s not buying it, but thankfully doesn’t press.
I return to what I do best when nervous: observing details. Like how Linc’s throat moves when he takes a swig of beer after he’s finished his shot. The way his Adam’s apple bobs. The light sheen of sweat on his neck that makes me wonder how the skin there would taste if I?—
“Em? You with us?”
I blink rapidly, heat rushing up my neck as I realize Declan is looking at me.
And so are Maine, Linc—ohGod—and Lea.
“Sorry, what?” My voice comes out higher than intended.
“I asked if you’re taking another math class this semester,” Dec repeats.
Linc nods. “You mentioned you liked them, right?”
He remembered that?
I made that comment once—ONCE—when we were packing up after our final exam last semester. A throwaway line about how I found math soothing because there are clear right answers, unlike my elementary education courses where almost everything is subjective.
“Oh, um, yeah.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Mathematical Concepts and Structures. It’s for my ed requirement, since I’ll be teaching elementary.”
“With Professor Chen?” Linc asks, picking up his beer.
I nod, still surprised a hockey player is pursuingthisconversation. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Took it sophomore year.” He leans against the pool table, and I’m reminded of just how tall he is. “The pre-reading for that class is killer.”
I frown. I’m religious bordering on obsessive about checking my Pine Barren email—a necessity when juggling two majors. Suddenly, my head starts spinning when I realize I might have missed the pre-reading for a whole subject, with classes starting tomorrow.
“Reading list? For math?” I pull out my phone. “I checked this morning and didn’t see anything.”
“Maybe it went to spam.” Linc drains his beer and sets the empty bottle on a nearby table. “I need another drink. Come to the bar, and I’ll dig up my old one.”
My brain short-circuits.
Is he…?
No… right?
He probably just wants to help me get to the bottom of the reading.
“Sure,” I say, trying for casual as I slide off my stool.
Lea catches my eye. Her expression morphs from surprise to concern to something resembling panic telepathy. She mouths “are you OK?” with wide eyes. Lea knows my dating history—or rather, my lack thereof—and she’s never seen me goanywherewith a guy.
