Page 8 of The Stalker Snafu

Her smile stiffened. “At least it explains how you’re still in this class when everyone else had to earn their spots.”

Noah went still beside me, the air tightening around him, but I jumped in before he could say anything. “I earned my spot just like everyone else.”

She leaned closer, pretending to whisper. “I don’t think sleeping with an upperclassman so he’ll help you get an A really counts as earning it.”

Silence fell, hard and fast, and I struggled to keep my jaw off the floor.

The only noise was a rattling snore that escaped Susan.

Until a low, scary sound came from Noah.

“Blaise,” he said dangerously, but I launched up from my seat—the chair legs screeching against the floor—and more of the room quieted.

“Excuse me?” I asked softly.

Blaise held up both hands. “It’s nothing personal. Just doesn’t feel fair to everyone else.”

I wanted to punch her—to wipe that stupid, mean smile off her face. Maybe Noah sensed my sudden thirst for violence, because he reached for my hand before I could even form a fist. He tugged me toward him and slung my backpack over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I blinked at his hand clasping mine. “Huh?”

“We’re going to work on our duet,” he said, deceptively calm. I didn’t stop him when he pulled me around the desk.

Blaise scowled. “You can’t leave yet. We haven’t finished the discussion questions.”

Noah stopped midstep and lifted a single brow—a skill I’d always admired him for. “Did you have more to say?”

My butt clenched at the frost in his voice. He clearly wasn’t talking about Slade’s discussion points.

Blaise sank in her seat. “Never mind.”

Ha. I barely refrained from sticking my tongue out at her.

Noah paused next to her chair and lowered his voice enough that I had to lean closer to catch it. “Talk to Emma like that again, and being reported to the ethics board will be the least of your problems.”

A hot blush flooded Blaise’s cheeks, and she refused to look at either of us.

I was too shocked to say anything as Noah led me from the room—passing a clueless Slade and more wide-eyed students—all while I could only gape at the back of my boyfriend’s head.

He pulled me all the way across the hall to the music room and swiped us inside.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, Noah tugged me into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You okay?”

The comfort popped my growing anger like a balloon, and I nestled my cheek against Noah’s chest, both arms around his waist.

“Yeah, I just—Ugh, I hate her!” I whined, then paused. “No, I don’t hate her. She hates me. And I hate being hated.”

He rested his chin on my head. “Blaise should know better than to abuse her position.”

“Yeah, well, it’s because she has a thing for you, which I don’t blame her for.” I sighed. My eyes fell on the gleaming black baby grand piano in the corner of the room, and I poked Noah’s side. “But maybe you could play something to cheer me up?”

Noah chuckled and tugged me toward the piano. “Come on.”

We settled next to each other on the bench—I might’ve cozied up to him as close as possible—and Noah lifted the lid before getting to work.

His fingers flowed across the keys effortlessly—light and freeing. Every note built upon the one before until they filled the room with a soft melody that scratched my brain in the best way possible. It wasn’t a piece I recognized, but already my mood lightened.

I couldn’t really blame Blaise for having a thing for Noah when he had fingers like this. It was difficult not to fall into a trance, and I leaned my head against his shoulder while he played, just enjoying the moment.