Page 10 of Frozen Hearts
Why?I moan to myself. The man isneveralone. Boys and girls alike flock to his side the second he steps into the classroom, and no one has ever left an empty seat beside him—not that I’ve been specifically looking. Other than ensuring he doesn’t sit besidemeagain, I don’t care where he sits. Or who he sits with.
Skipping over the empty chair, I scan the rest of the lecture hall, hoping to find another one, but when Professor Caldwell clears his throat in an obvioussit down this instant, I admit defeat and hurry toward the ice hockey god.
He continues with his lecture the second my ass hits the seat, and I hurriedly pull out my things, hoping I haven’t missed anything important.
“I’m open to creative forms of payment,” Logan murmurs in my ear, his voice low and heady.
I stiffen, side-eyeing him in confusion.
He winks, and dear Lord does it do inappropriate things to my ovaries. No wonder girls fall all over him. He’s sex incarnate—and he knows it.
“For keeping the seat beside me free for you.”
Oh, hell no!
If sitting here comes with a price, then I’d rather skip the entire class.
My expression turns thunderous as I begin shoving everything I just lifted out back into my bag, willing to risk Professor Caldwell’s wrath if it means I don’t owe this arrogant asshole a damn thing.
“Relax.” He sighs as though frustrated, resting his hand on my arm to halt my movements. “I was only joking.”
I give him a withering glare that could turn glass to ice. “Well, it wasn’t funny.”
He nods, his features fixed into a serious expression, but I can’t tell if he’s being genuine or mocking me. “Noted.”
I glare at him a moment longer, but when I can’t figure out his intentions, I dismiss him altogether and turn my attention to the front of the class.
He leaves me alone for all of thirty seconds before he leans over, invading my personal space. “Ididkeep this space free for you, though.”
My gaze shifts to the side, narrowing before I promptly dismiss him. He’s only trying to get a rise out of me. He’s the type who needs everyone's attention constantly on him.
“It was quite a feat,” he continues, undeterred. “I thought one girl was going to burst into tears when I told her she couldn’t sit there.”
I roll my eyes, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he was telling the truth.
When I remain mute, he sighs. Frustratingly, it makes me want to laugh, and I have to bite down on my lower lip to stifle it. I bet he’s never had to work so hard to get a girl to talk to him.
He drops his face to stare at his tabletop, and I silently hope he’s given up and decided to focus on his studies instead of bothering me.
Unfortunately, I am shit out of luck, and while I’m jotting down notes, he takes the opportunity to drag his chair impossibly closer. His muscular arm presses against mine and it’s my turn to huff out a frustrated breath as I do my best to ignore him.
However, apparently, Logan is persistent. His knee bumps against mine beneath the table as he leans into my personal space and glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I find him intently watching me while I write. His nearness leaves me feeling off-kilter, and I don’t like it. The way my heart rate spikes and my palms grow clammy.He’s just a boy, I remind myself, even as pressure wells in my chest, a sensation I can neither shake nor deny. It’s like a magnetism between us that I’m trying desperately to pretend doesn’t exist.
“Has anyone ever told you you smell like strawberries?” he murmurs in a low voice that elicits goosebumps along my skin. As if to prove his point, he inhales deeply, humming with pleasure. “Because you totally do. Sweet and juicy.” His nose is practically buried in my hair, and it takes everything in me not to react to his words or the brush of his lips against my skin.
Teeth gritted, I glare at the notepad on my desk, willing myself not to respond. I’m no longer paying attention to the lecture. Every atom in my body is attuned to the gorgeous man currentlysniffingme like he’s a damn dog and I’m a juicy steak being dangled in front of him.
“You could at least acknowledge my existence,” he grumbles in exasperation when he gets no further reaction from me. Stifling my laugh, I tug my lower lip into my mouth, pleased to have irritated him as much as he is currently irritating me.
Because irritation is definitely the only emotion I am feeling toward him.
Yup. Only irritation.
Quietly clearing my throat so he can’t tell how much his close proximity affects me, I keep my eyes carefully focused on the front of the lecture hall as I mutter barely loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t ask you to save me a seat, and contrary to what you seem to think, I don’t owe you anything.”
Unfazed by my harsh tone, he mock gasps and claps his hand against his chest. “She speaks!”
Dammit, lips, don’t twitch! He is not amusing!
