“So, showing a sharper degree of technique is our best shot at getting the highest grade,” Noah said like it was obvious. “I think we should reconsider neoclassical. Someone like Stravinsky.”
“No, no, no.” I shook my head for emphasis and leaned forward until the table’s edge dug into my middle. I lowered my voice, fully aware we were in a sacred library. “We already compromised, remember? Ravelisthe compromise.”
“That was before we knew all the facts,” Noah said, not showing the same respect for the library. “Like how it’d risk our grade. Slade doesn’t care for the emotional bits.”
My lips twisted into a scowl. “And I don’t care for pickles on my cheeseburgers, but I’m not letting that affect our decisions.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed, and a shrewdness entered his gaze that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Do you take anything seriously?”
“Iambeing serious,” I said, thrown off by his sudden cold front. “What’s going on with you, Noah? Are you jet-lagged from Chicago or something?”
His eyes flashed before he broke our stare. “I’d rather not talk about Chicago.”
My lips parted, and I let my hands fall from the tabletop and into my lap.
What the heck happened in Chicago?
Noah took a deep breath and picked up his pen. “Forget it. We’re here to study. The duet can wait.”
I didn’t move a muscle as he flipped through the textbook. Instead, I took in the tense line of his jaw. The way his eyes squinted at the page without moving. The crease between his brows.
My heart thumped loudly in my chest.
A sharp smack of a dropped book echoed from the bookstacks, and I jerked in my seat as my heart lurched. Grumbling, I glared in the general direction of the dropped book while Noah didn’t even flinch.
This wouldn’t do.
“Hey,” I whispered. I slipped off one of my Keds and slid my sock-covered foot across the carpet before nudging Noah’s foot under the table. He barely glanced up. “Why do you even care so much about which style we do? You’re auditing the class, so it doesn’t matter what grade you get.”
“Of course it matters. I’ll still show up in the class ranking.”
A quiet snort escaped before I could stop it, and I clamped a hand over my nose.
I definitely wasn’t fond of the cold Noah I’d gotten a glimpse of today. I missed the one who flirted with me over text all week. The one who’d taken me out for cheeseburgers as soon as he got back from Chicago.
I’d rather not talk about Chicago.
Yes, I wanted the flirty Noah back.
Letting my foot trail up his shoe until it felt his ankle, I traced my toe around the bone there. His expression didn’t waver, but his finger twitched against the page.
“You care that much about being ranked in an undergrad course?” I asked.
His foot moved, nudging mine back as he quirked his brow. “You don’t?”
We definitely had different levels of competitive drive.
I hooked my foot around his ankle and let it rest there as my heartbeat calmed to a normal rhythm. “I’m more concerned about passing the class in general and keeping my scholarship. Oh, and finding the bakery you bought that caramel macchiato cheesecake from.”
Noah’s lips twitched, and he rummaged through his bag again before pulling out a stack of flash cards. “You’re right. And it’s a good reminder that we need to get you ready for the midterm.”
I pulled my foot back with a groan, regretting not asking him out for a cup of coffee and a walk around the quad instead of a study date. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing.”
I couldn’t hold back a grin when Noah’s toes nudged against my ankle. But I also couldn’t help noticing he checked his phone fourteen times in an hour before slipping away to meet his secret friends.
CHAPTER30
A Friend
