Perfect.
“Where the hell is it,” I muttered under my breath, shoving my hand deeper into the bag. I came up with lint, a bottle cap,and a sticky note with Jace’s handwriting that just saidbuy lube. I crumpled that fast, my ears burning, and shoved it back inside.
“Here,” a soft voice whispered.
I turned my head.
And froze.
Wow.
She sat one desk over, angled slightly toward me, a yellow No. 2 pencil held out in her delicate fingers like it might burn her if she held it too long.
Her hair caught the classroom light, blonde but not flat. Streaks of honey and gold ran through it like the sun was pouring directly into the strands. And her eyes, fuck, her eyes were copper…warm and alive, like pennies just pulled from sunlight. They caught the light when she moved, shifting between amber and bronze, impossible to look away from once you noticed them.
Pennies just pulled from sunlight?
I was losing my fucking mind.
She blushed as I stared at her. And it wasn’t just pink cheeks, either. Color flooded her neck, spreading down to the collar of her sweatshirt, blooming across her skin like I’d caught her doing something indecent just by existing near her.
Her lips parted slightly, like she’d been about to say something, then pressed together again. Her gaze flicked down, and she shoved the pencil toward me like she couldn’t stand to hold it any longer.
Normally, I would’ve just taken it and moved on. But something in me paused, curious, reckless, and I let my fingers brush hers as I took it. The contact was small, barely anything, but the heat of her skin hit me like static.
“Uh,” I said brilliantly, still holding the pencil like it was something fragile. “Thanks.”
The wood was warm from her hand, and for a reason I couldn’t name, I didn’t set it down right away.
Instead, I kept staring.
Because there was something about her. Something that hooked sharp and fast under my skin and refused to let go.
The professor started talking, but his voice barely registered, his words washing over me without sticking. I couldn’t focus on any of it. My attention kept slipping back to her…the glint of light in her hair, the quick, careful way she turned a page, the tension in her shoulders like she was trying to disappear into herself.
I’d never seen anyone like her. Not just pretty—arresting.A beautiful that hit like a punch you didn’t see coming, that knocked something loose inside you before you could brace for it. There was a softness to her face that didn’t match the way she held herself, like she was half terrified of being noticed and half hoping someone finally would.
I couldn’t look away. Every time I tried, my eyes found her again, like my brain had decided she was the only thing worth focusing on.
I shifted in my chair, and my arm brushed hers. Barely. But she tensed like I’d burned her.
“You saved my ass,” I said before I could stop myself, leaning closer. I wanted to hear her voice again. “I forgot he gets off on surprise quizzes.”
The words left my mouth, and I instantly regretted them.Smooth, real smooth. I’d played in front of packed stadiums, done press interviews, handled reporters…and somehow, a single girl with a pencil had me forgetting how to talk like a functioning human.
Her breath hitched, faint but audible. I bit back a grin. She was blushing again, somehow even deeper than before. The color rushed up her neck, staining her cheeks until she lookedlike she might combust right there. And despite how awkward my attempt at flirting had been, it still was affecting her.
She looked like she wanted to disappear under the desk, but she nodded anyway, eyes locked on the scratched surface in front of her. Her breathing came in small, uneven pulls, like she was trying to survive the moment by sheer force of will.
How the hell had I never seen her before? This wasn’t a big class. I usually sat in the same spot, head down, avoiding eye contact so no one got the wrong idea and tried to talk to me. I usually remembered faces, even forgettable ones, but hers? There was definitely no way I’d forgetthat.
Had she just transferred? Been sitting somewhere else this whole time? Or had I really been that wrapped up in my own world not to notice her until now? The thought unsettled me in a way I didn’t like.
I needed to know more. Anything. Something to go on.
I leaned in slightly, my voice low so only she could hear. “What’s your name?”
Her head tilted the tiniest bit, like she was weighing whether to answer at all. For a second, I thought she wasn’t going to speak. Then, so softly I almost missed it, she whispered, “It doesn’t matter.”
