“Bum, arse . . .” I stopped when he jumped on it. “Arse?”
He nodded, but wanted me to expand.
“Butt?”
He shook his head.
“Derriere, bottom . . .”
“No, what you said before!”
“You’re not allowed to speak. Stick to the rules. So . . . arse?”
“God, you English! Never mind. Moving on to the second word.” He sashayed like a diva across the room, hips swinging, fanning his face, and fluttering his lashes.
I was about to take a guess when Jack piped in again.
“Don Quixote,” he said, head still bent over his desk.
“That’s right!” said Bahati, holding the book up for us to see.
“How the hell is thatDon Quixote?” I asked. “You pointed to your arse.”
“Ass, as in donkey. But you sayarse, which doesn’t work. So then I moved on to being a hottie. Donkey hottie.” Bahati clapped his hands together. “Don Quixote.”
“That’s just . . . there’s just no way in hell . . .”
“You try to pull offDon Quixote. Besides, Jack got it.” Bahati gloated.
I glanced at Jack. He was busy writing something, but I caught the slight upturn of his mouth.
“No.” I walked over to him. “I don’t believe it. Something’s not right here.”
Jack put his pen down and sat back, regarding me with eyes that looked like rain on wild, blue forget-me-nots. “What are you saying, Rodel?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” My eyes narrowed on him. I grabbed my book and swiveled on my heels.
“Where are you going?” he called after me.
God. That voice. It made me feel like I should be marching straight to his bedroom.
“Out. With Mr. Darcy,” I replied, heading for the porch. It was my favorite thing to do at the end of the day—snuggle up with a good book on the swing.
I wasn’t too far into my date with Mr. Darcy when Mr. Warden showed up, blanket in hand.
“I thought you could use this,” he said. “It’s chilly out tonight.”
I ignored him and kept my nose stuck in my book.
“Yep, definitely some frost in the air.” The porch swing creaked as he sat down next to me.
“All right, fine,” he said, after he got tired of listening to the crickets chirp. “No one ever touches those books, except for you, so everyone pretty much has its own spot. I could tell which books you and Bahati picked.”
I kept my eyes on my book for a few moments. Then I reached for a corner of the blanket Jack had brought and tugged it across my lap. Jack might have smiled, and maybe I did too, but it was just the tiniest bit. Book nerds find that kind of thing sexy—a man who knows his book shelves like the back of his hand.
Oh, my dear, dear Darcy,I thought. I’m in so much trouble. I know I’m in deep when even you can’t hold my attention. I hold my breath every time I pass his door. My skin tingles every time he sits next to me.
I flipped my book shut and cast my glance at the crescent moon. It hung amongst clusters of stars, its halo bright against the charcoal sky.
