She made the sit gesture again, her eyes narrowed.
I glanced at Rowan. Not that any of my other scenarios went well, but maybe I hadn’t had the right motivation. Miss Q was me, right? So, this was my delusion. I could do whatever I wanted.
I could use Rowan as a chair.
Instead of doing what I was told, I grinned at Rowan and motioned for him to sit. The man gave me a quizzical look, but pushed off the wall and sat. Before I could lose my nerve, I spun, wiggled my ass once, and made myself comfortable on his thighs, not quite brave enough to press myself into his chest.
Angela’s face turned red and her eyes bugged. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I blinked a few times. “The chair looked cold.” I honestly wasn’t sure I could have said anything dumber, but here we were.
Angela’s jaw dropped, and the room went deathly silent. The tightness of Rowan’s thighs hardened under my ass. I suddenly had no idea what to do next. I’d never kissed a guy. Should I spin and pucker? Scoot back and plaster myself to his chest? Where was this going? Angela was still gaping at us. Did Rowan want me on his lap?
He wasn’t real, so it shouldn’t matter.
But he felt real.
And that was the problem with all of this.
My excitement shifted to unease.
As if feeling the change in my emotions, Rowan patted my shoulder. “I believe the chair is nice and warm for you now.”
I bolted out of his lap and buried my face as far into my hood as I could get it. “Thanks.”
Despite the tension in the air, Rowan’s eyes twinkled as he stood and returned to his spot, leaning against the wall. I bit my lower lip. It was still awkward as hell, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
Instead of slinking into the chair like a guilty rat, I touched the surface as if checking to see if Rowan had done his duty before giving him another nod and sitting.
A laugh rumbled out of his chest.
“Stop laughing, Rowan,” Angela hissed. “It’s a power play, which your family has clearly forgotten how to do. Don’t forget your place.”
Rowan’s laughter cut off with an uncomfortable grunt, which, for some reason, made me angry on his behalf.
“No family and no money sounds right,” I repeated her initial assessment to take her focus off the handsome man who’d rescued me from an awkward situation of my own making.
“You’ve been assigned a double work-study,” she stated.
I nodded. “Sounds fair.”
“Does it?” Angela eyed me skeptically.
In my world, it did, but maybe not here?
I raised an eyebrow. “Should it not?”
Angela scowled at me and returned her attention to the glowing sheet. We sat in silence as she read. I risked another peek at Rowan, who had his eyes closed, still leaning in the same place. The door thudded against his back, and Rowan stumbled forward, blinking in surprise.
“Angela!” A light, high-pitched voice rang out.
I turned as another pair entered the space, making it feel relatively small. The new arrival’s colorful, long sweater swished around her, hiding the young man at her back. Light, wrinkled lines covered her round face, reminding me of a professor fromHarry Potter.Her terrifyingly bright-gold, frizzy hair looked more suited to be a paint job on a car, and clashed horribly with her angry, red face.
“What are you doing?” she demanded of Angela. “Get out of here before I call the Architect!”
Rowan grunted and crossed his arms over his chest; his disappointed gaze locked on Angela.
Angela gave him an innocent smile and stood. “I believe the Architect’s still unconscious and will be for some time.”
