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“Foreplay,” he repeats.

“Yeah. Kissing. Where to put your hands. How not to bump teeth. You know, foreplay. Not—I’m not talking about sex. Although, I can talk about that part…if you want…” I try to smile. It feels shaky at best. “Tutor for tutor. Chemistry for…well...the other chemistry.”

I chew on my lower lip as he remains silent. Shit, I overstepped.

“You can say no. You should probably say no,” I add. I want him to say yes, because I want to kiss him. I’m so screwed.

Silence. My heart pounding in my ears fills the space, and I’m sure he can hear it.

“You would do that?” he asks. “Because you need help in class?”

“Yeah. It wouldn’t be serious. And it would help us both out.”

It’s also a lie of omission. I would do it because I’ve been staring at his mouth since he said no one had ever touched it, and I want to be the first.

Quinn’s ears are scarlet. He clears his throat and closes his notebook. “I have to think about it.”

“Yeah, of course.” My voice comes out strained, and I clear my throat, too. “No pressure. Friends either way, yeah?”

He nods once then goes back to his homework, and I try to focus back on my textbook. But I’m hyper aware of him now. I can even hear him breathing, and it’s making me fucking hard.

I just really offered to teach my virgin roommate how to kiss in exchange for Analytical Chemistry tutoring.

TEN

QUINN

Daniel doesn’t bring up his offer again. It’s been over twenty-four hours.

The idea of learning how to kiss and do other stuff is appealing, I won’t lie. In this type of situation, it’s more like an experiment. It’s okay if I’m not attracted to him. I can still learn. He is obviously desperate for the chemistry help, or he wouldn’t waste his time on me.

When my alarm goes off on Friday morning, I’m already awake. I shut it off before he even pauses in his snoring. He’ll still be asleep for another forty minutes. I kick off my comforter and take my clothes into the bathroom.

Today. I’m going to tell him I accept his offer today. And I’m not sure why that makes me a little nervous. It’s just a trade. He gets a passing grade. I get data I don’t have. Simple.

I get dressed facing the mirror and practice saying it out loud once, under my breath. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

No. That’s not it.

“I accept. We should set rules.”

That’s better. Rules are important. I brush my teeth and stare at my own mouth. I try to picture kissing him. I can’t. But I can’t really picture doing that with anyone. Still, my stomach does that strange flipping thing I can’t explain as I rinse my toothbrush and turn off the water.

When I open the door, he’s still asleep, his face smashed into his pillow, his hair falling over his face. It’s longer than mine. And the caramel brown it is with the little streaks of lighter strands is nice. My eyes dip to his lips, they are parted slightly with each soft snore, and I can see his teeth peeking between them.

Can I kiss him? I bite my lower lip as I study his mouth. His lips look soft enough. It could be pleasant.

I pull my attention away from him and turn to make my bed. It’s better if I busy myself doing something. And if he woke up and found me staring at him, that would be embarrassing.

I fluff my pillow, my eyes falling on a spot on the corner. Hmmm. It looks like I drooled or something. I make a mental note to wash it later.

When I’m almost done with my bed, his snoring cuts off. He makes a wrecked little sound, and I glance over at him, he squints back at me.

“Morning,” I say.

“Mmmph. Time is it?” he grunts, pushing his hair off his face and wiping away a little drool with the back of his hand.

“Early. But we have lab.”