“That’s what I thought.” He leans in closer, his intoxicating scent filling my nostrils. A heady blend of something warm and earthy, like sandalwood mingled with the faintest hint of fresh citrus.
My breath catches, but I do my best not to show it.
The heat of his proximity and the scent—deep, familiar, and completely him—are as overwhelming as they are infuriating, and I find myself leaning in the opposite direction in hopes of finding reprieve. There is none.
“Do you mind?” I hiss under my breath, gesturing to the very small space that separates us.
“Not at all.” He bats his eyes slowly, showing off his long, thick lashes. I have to resist the urge to reach over and pluck a few hairs out with my fingertips in hopes of making them a little less perfect.
“Move over,” I mouth, not wanting to draw the attention of the professor. Then again, maybe that’s exactly what I should do. Cause a ruckus so he’ll be forced to separate us.
I open my mouth again, prepared to do just that, when his gaze finds me and Macallan in the corner of the room.
“Rose and Stewart, you will be partners.”
I look around, confused... What was he saying before? What did I miss while I was focused on the infuriating man next to me?
“Asher and Thompson. Cander and Roberts. Shelby and Andrews. Smith and Edwards.” He continues calling last names, partnering the class off in groups of two.
Which means...
No. No. No.I almost whimper.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” Macallan seems to find way too much pleasure in my discomfort, and I quickly raise my hand.
Professor Langdon continues to read names, not bothering to even acknowledge my raised hand until he finishes, what feels like several minutes later, by which time my arm muscles are screaming.
“Yes, Miss Rose?” He finally glances my way, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his pointed nose. For a younger guy, he gives off the aura of someone much older. An old soul, my mother would call him.
“I need a different partner.” I ignore the various sets of eyes that turn my way as I shake my hand to try and get some feeling back into my fingers.
“And why is that, Miss Rose?”
“I...”
“Go ahead, tell him why.” Macallan urges low enough that only I can hear, his voice so full of humor he might as well be laughing right in my face.
“Yes? Miss Rose?” Professor Langdon taps his foot in impatience.
“I can’t work with him,” I state bluntly, not missing the snickers that filter through the classroom.
Glad my classmates find my misery so entertaining.
I ignore the heat of embarrassment as it slides up my neck before settling on my cheeks. I’m grateful for my skin tone, which is dark enough that my flush isn’t easily noticed by those not sitting very close to me... But Macallan can no doubt see it, which only makes more blood rush to the surface, deepening my blush.
“And why is that?”
“Because... Because I don’t like him,” I state plainly, scoffing in the direction of a group of guys who howl in laughter—whether because I’ve just told the whole class that I dislike Macallan Stewart or because of my obvious discomfort, I’m not sure.
“That is no concern of mine. In fact, it may make the outcome of your assignment all the more enlightening. You will work with your assigned partner,” he states matter-of-factly, turning his attention back to the class as a whole.
I bite back the retort on my tongue as I slink back into my seat, glancing sideways at Mac to see him clapping silently next to me.
“Valiant effort.” He chuckles.
“If you want to keep those pretty teeth of yours, I advise you wipe that smile off your face,” I threaten, my molars clenched together so hard it’s a wonder they don’t shatter into a million pieces in my mouth.
“Such violence, Miss Rose.” He mocks the way Professor Langdon said my name just moments ago.
