"Don’t," I warn him. Too late.
"Youstillhave this?" Gio wheezes, already laughing like a maniac. "This ugly thing? I remember this! You used to sleep with it at summer camp! What was its name again, Dino? Dippy?"
"Duke," I snap.
He collapses onto my bed dramatically, clutching the dinosaur. "DUKE! Of course you named it Duke. That’s so painfully you."
Lord. Stop laughing. I swear, I physically cannot handle people who laugh that hard, it’s contagious in the worst way.
And of course my stupid mouth twitches, like it wants to join him. I bite it back immediately.
No. Absolutely not. I amnotlaughing with him again.
"Shut up." I focus on the screen. My heart picks up speed, and I hate that. He’s always like this, flirting, teasing, messing with people just to see if they’ll flinch.
And I refuse to flinch.
…
We’re halfway into slide three when Daisy knocks and leans into the room. She doesn’t knock, actually. Just bursts in like she always does. "Mom says there’s pie if you want some. Fridge is full," she says. Then she sees Gio and grins wide. "Hey, punk."
"Daisy," he says, raising a hand like he’s some kind of king greeting his people.
"What, are you living here now?"
"Thinking about it," he says, smirking.
I groan. "Please go away."
But Daisy ignores me, walks in, and drops onto the edge of my bed. "You two fighting or flirting?"
"Can’t it be both?" Gio asks. She bursts out laughing. I snap back. "Neither. We’re working. So go."
She rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Boring. Bye." She leaves the room.
I pretend to focus. On bullet points. On font sizes. Anything but what she just said. Anything but the fact that Gio didn’t deny it.
We keep working. Or, I try to.
He’s still too close, knee brushing mine every so often. He doesn’t move. I don’t either.
At some point, he gets up and grabs two bottles of water from the fridge. Tosses me one, sits back down, takes a long sip.
Water drips down his neck, onto his chest. I look. For a second too long.
Of course he can’t even drink like a normal human.
He has to do it in that accidentally sexy, annoying Gio way.
I force my eyes back to the screen. "Can’t even drink properly." "You’re staring," he says.
"I’m regretting inviting you."
"Liar."
I want to throw something at him. Preferably the laptop. Or myself, out the window.
Instead, I turn the laptop toward him. "Focus. If we don’t finish this, I’m blaming you."
