She plops into a seat and immediately scoots an inch away from me, so I hook my foot around the leg of her chair and yank it back, flush against mine. The sudden screech of metal on tile echoes through the room, drawing every eye. I just flash a relaxed, unapologetic grin at the gawking classmates.
“What? Just keeping my girlfriend close,” I announce, shrugging innocently. A few people snicker, and Mara hides her face in her hands, mortified.
With the professor still absent, I figure I might as well keep misbehaving. Mara busies herself taking out her notebook, steadfastly avoiding my gaze. Smirking, I reach over and gently brush her long hair off her shoulder, deliberately baring the side of her neck.
She looks ready to murder me, but before she can say anotherword, the professor strides in and calls the class to order. Mara shoots me a final death glare and faces the front.
While the lecture drones on about cognitive biases, I keep my hand on Mara’s thigh the entire time. She goes rigid, keeping her gaze fixed ahead, but she doesn’t push me away. She wouldn’t dare draw attention in a room full of people. Hiding a grin, I inch my fingers higher, tracing idle patterns along her thigh.
Her pen trembles in her hand as I toy with the hem of her skirt, and I can see her breathing quicken even as she pretends to jot down notes.
Halfway through the lecture, Mara has had enough. Without even glancing my way, she suddenly drops her hand under the desk and clamps it over mine. Her nails dig sharply into the back of my hand.
I pause, arching a brow at her profile. Her grip relaxes slightly when I stop moving, and I allow myself a small, wicked smile.
She’s made her point, so I behave… for now, leaving my hand where it is, high on her thigh. Because at least now she’s holding my hand.
Who’s the winner now?
Toward the end of class, I notice Mara tugging down her skirt and crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously.
“Stop fidgeting,” I murmur, leaning close to her ear. “You look perfect.”
She shoots me a withering side-eye before snapping her gaze forward again, pretending to listen to the end-of-class announcements.
The second the professor dismisses us, Mara practically bolts from her chair. She shoves her notebook into her bag and beelines for the door.
She can run, but she knows I’ll follow.
I take my time, shoving my papers together, slinging my bag over my shoulder. By the time I make it into the hallway, I notice she hasn’t made it very far down the hall so I’m able to catch up to her.
She doesn’t make it three steps before my hand closes around her wrist, just enough to make her stumble back a half-step into me.
“Whoa, Princess… running off without a goodbye kiss?”
She yanks at her wrist, but I hold firm, tugging her flush against my chest.
“Let go,” she snaps.
“Not a chance.” I lean in. “What would people think if I let my fake girlfriend bolt the second class ended? Doesn’t exactly sell the fantasy, does it?”
Her nostrils flare and she wrenches free with more force this time, spinning to face me. For a beat, she’s just standing there, breathing fast, cheeks flushed.
“Talon—”
Before she can say more, I step in, bracing one hand on the wall beside her head, boxing her in. I flash her a grin sharp enough to cut. “See? Much more convincing.”
“This is supposed to be fake, Talon,” she hisses, keeping her voice low. “You’re taking it way too far!”
I dip my head until my lips hover just above her ear. “Too far? Princess, I’m just getting started.”
She sucks in a breath and presses back against the wall. “This isn’t what I asked for,” she bites out, trying to sound firm despite the quaver in her voice. “I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the tabloids, not—not whatever this is.”
“And that’s what they will think,” I murmur as I trail the back of my fingers down her cheek. She stills, her eyes widening at the gentle touch. “You wanted a boyfriend, didn’t you? Now everyone knows you’re taken. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Mara swallows hard. “You don’t have to be so physical in a fake relationship.”
I give a low, husky chuckle. “Sweetheart, that’s the best part of this deal for me.” My free hand drifts to her hip, my thumb brushing a slow circle just above her waistband. Mara’s lashes flutter at the contact, a tiny gasp catching in her throat. “If youthink I’m gonna let any guy on this campus even wonder if you’re mine, you’re adorable …” I lean in closer, my next words a possessive growl. “And you’re wrong.”
