I cleared my throat, drawing his attention away from the window. “Now who’s staring?”
He traced a finger along the book spines crammed into the shelf nestled in the corner. “It’s…cute.”
“Cute?” I echoed, pushing off the door and crossing my arms. “That’s your expert analysis?”
His mouth curved slightly. “Didn’t picture you as the fairy-light type.”
Heat crept up my neck, spreading across my cheeks. “They’re practical. Soft light is better for studying than overhead.”
He smirked. “Whatever you say, Hales.”
“Should we get started?” I asked quickly, walking to the bed where I’d set everything up, desperate to move past this moment of vulnerability. I sat first, crossing my legs and arranging my notebook in my lap, trying not to look like I was waiting for him to join me.
He didn’t hesitate.
Kicking off his white sneakers, he dropped onto the bed beside me, legs dangling off the side. The mattress dipped under his weight, tilting me slightly toward him, gravity working against my attempts at maintaining distance. Or maybe it was working for me? I didn’t know what I wanted, but my heart misfired, skipping a beat before racing to catch up.
“So,” I said, opening my notebook. “We need to design an experiment.”
He leaned back against my headboard, one arm stretching out along the pillows, his body sprawling with that casual confidence guys seemed to have in any space they occupied. “You’re the brain. I’m just here for the extra credit.”
Was I the extra credit?
Or was I reading too much into that statement?
“Flattering,” I muttered, trying not to focus on the way his arm rested inches from mine. Why did he look so good against my pillows? Why did it feel right having him in my bed?
“We could do something with plant growth,” he offered, his tone suggesting he didn’t care one way or another. “Different light exposures and track them over three weeks.”
“Predictable,” I teased, glancing at him sideways.
“Low risk.” He shrugged, the movement making his shirt ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of tanned skin above his waistband.
“Afraid of a challenge, Corvo?”
His eyes flicked to mine, a slow heat settling there that had nothing to do with biology homework. “Not even a little.”
The air shifted, thickening with unspoken tension.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look back at my notes, pen moving across paper just to keep my hands busy. “Okay. What about stress responses? Environmental factors affecting growth or behavior. Something beyond basic photosynthesis.”
“Stress, huh?” he murmured, his lips twitching at the corners. “I’m a fucking expert on that subject.” A shadow lurked beneath Maddox’s casual façade.
“Because of your dad or because of your crew?” I inquired. Neither of which he talked much about.
His jaw ticked, and I knew I hit a nerve. It was an opening I’d been waiting for, but it didn’t stop the guilt from intentionally bringing up what clearly weren’t pleasant thoughts. I promised Paisley I would try. She wasn’t the only one concerned about the possibility of someone kidnapping girls again, but we had different reasons for being worried.
“They’re the same, Hales,” he replied.
“In that case…” Hesitating, I reached behind me, finding the bottle I’d stashed under my pillow and pulling it out slowly. “For scientific inspiration?”
His eyes dropped to the bottle before tracking back to my face. “You always keep liquor in your bedroom?”
“Only for reallystressfulassignments.” I twisted the cap off, breaking the seal. We weren’t big drinkers in this house. It muddled the mind, and Mom was keen on keeping hers sharp. It’s a miracle I found any at all.
A faint chuckle escaped him. “You’re trouble.”
“Among other things,” I said, echoing his words from Raven Night back at him deliberately. I took a small sip directly from the bottle and winced before offering it to him.
