Page 14 of The Casanova Complex

In a breath, she recovers, snapping her lips shut with an exaggerated eye roll. “Jesus. Get off the floor. Sit. Before I change my mind.”

It’s the equivalent of her telling me to bark, and like the good boy I am, I rise from my knees and pull out the chair beside her, sinking into it.

She doesn’t sit down, so I look over and up at her, finding her gaze already on me.

“Well? Aren’t you going to sit?”

“Do you have to sit directly beside me? There’s literally an entire empty side of the table over there.”

I lift my shoulder. “I’m a hands-on learner, Mer. I do better under strict supervision.”

“Do not call me that.” The words fly out of her mouth, and then suddenly, she flattens her palms on the table in front of me, leaning down until we’re eye to eye.

“Actually, you know what? Let’s get something straight right now, Legros. I know that everything in life is the world’s biggest joke to you, and the only thing you take seriously is the puck you chase around, but this is not a joke. This project, the grade that is fifty percent of our final grade this semester, it’s serious. And since we’re unfortunately partnered together on it, you’re going to be more serious about classic literature than you’ve ever been about anything in your life. Got it?”

When she’s done, her nostrils are flaring, and her eyes are blazing with the wrong kind of heat.

She’s actually pissed.

And it doesn’t seem like it’s just the fact that I was late today either.

Hm.

It seems like Merritt St. Pierre doesn’t like me.

She really doesn’t like me.

Which is fucking nuts because everyone loves me.

Duh. I’m me.

I make friends with people in the grocery store line. It’s a special talent of mine, according to my mama. She says I could make friends with a brick wall, and it can’t even talk back.

So, needless to say, this turn of events surprises me because I’ve never spoken to her a day in my life until right now.

“That means no showing up late like you constantly do to class. It means actually participating and giving a shit about what we turn in. It means saving the flirting for outside of classroom hours,” she scolds, arching a brow.

I lift my hand to my head and give her an exaggerated salute, watching as her nose crinkles. “Yes, ma’am.” My back hits the seat behind me. “You know, you seem to know a lot about me for someone I’ve never met.”

Something passes through her gaze so quickly that I almost miss it, but I catch it for the briefest of moments.

I just can’t put my finger on it.

This girl is like a breath of fresh air, with her snark and attitude. She’s got fire, and now she’s caught my attention.

Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing for her.

Or… for me.

Monk status and all. A girl like her is dangerous for my well-being in its current state.

“We’ve—” she starts, but then snaps her mouth shut mid-sentence, an incredulous laugh following it as she shakes her head.

Why does it feel like I’m missing something?

“Never mind. I know everything that I need to know about you, Bennett. Your reputation precedes you.”

Of course it does.