I didn’t have to look to the left to know it was Liam.
“I saved you a seat,” he said, his voice deceptively neutral.
He wasn’t sitting in our usual spot, but instead had picked a spot closer to the door. Was I really so transparent that he knew I’d try to hide from him? I forced my muscles to relax, pasted a fake-casual smile on my face, and turned.
Liam’s lips lifted in the faintest smile, and he patted the empty chair next to him.
I sat down and opened my laptop like this was any other class and waited for him to say something, but he remained silent. Professor Hanks started the lecture, and as class went on without Liam saying or doing anything, my muscles started to truly relax.
Although, even silent, he was still a distraction I was hyperaware of. His thick forearm leaned on the divider between our seats, radiating a wall of warmth that made my skin prickle. The edge of a tattoo peeked out from beneath his barely pushed-up sleeve, dark ink I'd seen a thousand times but had never let myself stare at this closely. I couldn't help thinking about those arms holding me like I was something precious as he carried me from the bar back to my dorm. I might've been totally shit-faced, but I rememberhow safe I felt. I didn't fear that he'd drop me or that I was too heavy and he'd get tired of carrying me.
I knew he wouldn’t.
He might be a total fuckboy, but he was loyal to those in his circle. It was something we’d always had in common.
When Professor Hanks finished the lecture, he told us to work in pairs or small groups on the discussion questions posted on the screen at the front of the room.
Liam took that opportunity to turn to me. “Want to work together?”
“Sure.”
“How’s the head?”
“Fine.” I was reluctant to mention anything else about that night, but I also owed him. “Thank you for the aspirin.”
His lips lifted a little more, but his green gaze was probing when he said, “No problem.”
Cool. I’d done my duty of thanking him and now we could both pretend that night had never happened. Although, the longer he went without mentioning the list, the more I wondered if maybe I was internally freaking out for nothing. Maybe he’d just opened it to a random page and pulled one out. It was totally possible he hadn’t seen the list at all.
Buoyed by the thought that I was in the clear, I looked at the first question on the screen. “How does social proof impact consumer decision-making? Provide one real-world example. Hmm, do you want to answer first?”
I moved my gaze from the screen back to Liam to find him already staring at me, like he was trying to work something out in his head. My heart rate picked up speed the longer he watched me. “Liam?”
“I saw your list.”
The air in my lungs felt like it froze in an instant. Istopped breathing, and the blood rushed to my face so fast it made me dizzy, the humiliation crashing over me like a tidal wave.
“W-what?”
“You heard me.”
My chest got tight and I placed a hand over my heart, feeling it race even beneath my clothes. Was this what a heart attack was like for women? I was one thousand percent certain it was. Humiliation could totally cause a heart attack, right?
He leaned closer and I caught a whiff of his cologne—that woodsy smell mixed with something I’d learned long ago was simply Liam.
Okay, now wasnotthe time to be thinking about how good he smelled.
I looked around the room. No one else seemed to be paying any attention to us, but I still leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Can we not talk about that, please?”
His gaze hardened as a muscle twitched in his clenched jaw.
“Okay,I’llanswer the question first,” I said, trying to stay focused on the class we were in. Maybe he’d follow my lead.
“Fuck the questions on the damn screen.”
Oookay. Maybe not.
“Li, I really don’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever, for that matter. Especially not with you.”
