Oh. That wasnotwhat I thought he was going to ask. Then again, he’d walked in on us making out in the middle of the Economics of Crime classroom just this morning so it was a fair question.
“I mean, is it just casual, or are you guys dating or…”
“No,” I quickly replied, shaking my head. “No, we’re not dating. It’s just…I don’t know. Chemistry. We aren’t—” I cut myself off, blowing out a long breath as I tried to come up with the right answer. “He’s my teacher. So…we aren’t anything.” Right? That was what I was supposed to say, I was sure of it.
Brodie narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing me. And really, why the fuck would he after what he’d seen going on between us after class?
“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically. “So hypothetically speaking, if someoneelsewere interested…”
Holy hell, is it hot in here? I feel hot.
“Someone else?” I repeated, unable to actually form a smooth comeback to what was more than likely just flirty banter or teasing from Brodie. We were besties…right? He’d friend-zoned me, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Brodie freaking Keller—the sexiest man in Hollywood—would ever be interested in me. Evelyn fake-last-name with the mysterious past and truck loads of trauma.
With all of that running through my head, I was totally stunned when he cupped my face, leaned in, and brushed his lips over mine ever so softly.
What the fuck is happening?
“Sorry,” Brodie murmured, shifting back just an inch or two. “That was… I should have asked first. Maybe I misread the vibes between us?”
Shit. Snap out of it, Evelyn!
Blinking, I shook my head. “You didn’t misread anything.”
A slow, sexy smile curved his lips. “So…can I kiss you, Evie babe?”
Holy shit, was this a dream?
I nodded, and he quickly closed the gap between us, but this time his kiss was more confident and eager, melting me into a puddle of goo. If it was a dream, it was one I badly didn’t want to wake up from.
“Brodie! Have you seen Eve?”
Ethan’s voice calling up the stairs made me jump so hard I fell off Brodie’s bed entirely, crashing to the floor in a seriously inelegant pile of limbs.
“Holy shit,” Brodie spluttered, peering over the side of his bed with a grin plastered across his sexy face. “Are you okay?”
“Ow,” I moaned, rubbing my hip where I’d hit the wooden floor.
“Eve?” Ethan said, appearing in the doorway with a puzzled look on his face. “Are you okay? I heard a crash…” His gaze tracked from me on the floor, to Brodie sprawled out on his bed, then back to me with a small frown.
My hip hurt, as did my elbow, but nothing quite compared to the bruise on my dignity. “I’m fine,” I muttered, scrambling up from my tangled position. “No harm done.”
“What are you guys doing up here?” Ethan asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked to Brodie for answers.
“Running lines,” I said.
At the same time, Brodie replied, “Making out.”
My face flamed, and I quickly grabbed the highlighted script from where it’d fallen to the floor. Then used it to smack Brodie over the head…gently.
“I’m helping Brodie rehearse for his callback next Friday,” I elaborated, giving the smug-as-fuck actor a hard glare. He seemed to be far too fucking amused by my awkwardness.
Luckily, Ethan seemed suitably distracted by the news of Brodie’s callback. “No way! That’s great news, Brodes. Comedown to the kitchen while I cook dinner and tell me all about it.” He glanced at me with a sly grin as Brodie sighed and got up from his bed. “Coming, Eve?”
I tried really hard not to pout as I muttered under my breath, “Apparently not.” Then covered it by replying, “Sure. What are you cooking?”
“Weare cooking lasagna,” Ethan informed me. “Someone ate the chicken I’d intended to use for chicken parmesan.”
Brodie jogged down the stairs two at a time, but Ethan grabbed my waist before I could follow, spinning me to face him and pinning me against the wall.
