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I decided that I hated Connor’s attention on me. I felt too much like an insect under a microscope, too much like he was trying to dissect me. Maybe it was because he pushed my buttons more than anyone else I’d tutored. He was more attentive than I’d previously given him credit for, tooaware, and I hated it.
“It’s not weird,” he agreed, voice surprisingly somber. It lacked any and all traces of humor I’d come to expect from him. Instead, he looked at me seriously. “Does that bother you? Being known for being good at math?”
I started popping my knuckles before jerking it away, dropping my hands back to my lap. “It’s…” The words trailed off. I knew how I wanted to finish the sentence, but the words were too honest, too vulnerable, and there was no way I could share them with him.It’s just that when people look at me, that’s all they see. Even more so since the stupid Most Likely To List. “Why is me liking equations dorkier than you liking running around on grass waiting for people to knock you over?”
“Touché.” One corner of his mouth twitched upward.
I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, and I sure didn’t want him looking at me like that anymore. “Let’s get to work.”
“How about we start with my tutoring today, yeah? Love advice is in session. I’ve thought long and hard about this lesson, but I think it’s good.”
I let out a little sigh, the tutor side of me wishing we’d start learning the more important part of things, but the student in me perked up. I was also glad we’d verged away from that topic. “Okay.”
“For this lesson, I will need to be able to demonstrate.” Connor held his palms up toward me, all wide and innocent. “Can I touch you?”
“Touch me?” I recoiled so sharply that I nearly upturned the scooter, catching myself at the last second. “Did you seriously bring me in here to make a move?Seriously?”
An abrupt laugh burst from him, accompanied by an expression that was amused in every sense of the word. “Jeez, of course not. It’s easier to show you rather than to explain, that’s all. I’d touch your cheek.” He poked at his own cheekbone. “Your hair. That’s it, I promise.”
I could…I could deal with that. I mean, it wasn’t like he was going to kiss me. It wasn’tthatkind of demonstration. He would’ve found his protractor shoved down his throat if that were the case. If recapturing Alex’s attention meant I had to let Connor touch my hair, my cheek, I could do it.
Ugh, but I didn’t want to.
I gave my head an annoyed shake. “Fine. If it’s necessary.”
He grabbed the edges of my scooter and angled me in front of him, moving his legs so they weren’t a barrier between us. And then he leaned closer. “Today’s topic: building tension.”
“That really needs to be a lesson?”
“Patience, grasshopper.” Without warning, Connor reached out and brushed a few strands of hair out of my eyes, the gentle, close touch making me jump. “Building anticipation is important.”
The confidence this boy possessed was like no other. I tried to imagination myself in a reversed role, tasked to tutor him on the lessons of love, and no way would I be able to offer a demonstration. It was justawkward. But he dove in without hesitation, as if this the most normal thing in the world.
Awkward atmosphere or not, I swallowed hard as he continued to explain.
“Sets the stage, ups the heart rate. Think about it. Going in for the kiss without the proper buildup sucks the fun out of it.”
I didn’t know where to look, because looking at him while he explained building anticipation—while hedemonstrated—was way too weird. Way too…charged. “Fun?”
“Sure. You can’t tell me your heart has never fluttered, waiting for someone to kiss you.”
I could still remember my first kiss with Alex. My first kiss ever. We’d gone out to see a movie, and when he pulled into my driveway to drop me off, my heart had fluttered something fierce. My stomach had been in knots the entire night, wondering—hoping—to end the night on that note.
Of course the flutter had disappeared after a year together. That was normal, right?
“Building the tension helps get that spark back,” Connor mused, as if reading my mind. The soft quality of the sentence felt like a soothing blanket to the stir of feelings a moment ago. His words earlier had unsettled me, but now…I couldn’t pinpoint what I was feeling. “So touching his hair before a kiss, touching his cheek—it helps.”
Once he tucked the piece of hair behind my ear, his thumb coasted along the edge of my cheekbone, and I froze. It was such a soft touch, almost barely there, a whisper of contact, that couldn’t help but tickle. His skin was cool against my flushed cheeks—wait, when had my cheeks gotten flushed?
Alex never touched me like this. Any bouts of affection came in bursts—quick, sharp, sudden. Like the kiss earlier in the hallway. There was no buildup, no time for my heart to flutter. It was then that I realized that Connor was absolutely right—building tensionwasimportant. Something I craved.
The scooter rolled a fraction of an inch closer.
Connor’s hand skidded along my jawline, and he had to feel how hard my pulse beat against my throat. Had to. And even though that was a mortifying thought, I was still frozen, letting him touch me.
Something shifted in his gaze. The arrogant confidence that simmered there seemed to harden into something else as he looked at me, and for a split second—just a split second—I could’ve sworn his eyes dropped to my lips.
“And then,” he whispered in the same murmuring tone, “before anything happens…” He drew his thumb along the apple of my cheek, the slight vibration that made my heartbeat stutter. “Pull away.”
