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“Yeah?” Oliver looks up with interest clear on his face. “Can I—”
“You could show me instead of him.” Professor Solomon’s voice makes me jump, and I nearly knock my chair backward at the words. I hadn’t been quiet enough, and when I glance up at the clock I’m surprised to see that it’s closer to ten minutes before class. No one else will be here until it’s almost time to start. Professor Solomon is just that good at keeping them away. “Since I’m your professor and all. And, for the time being, a bit better than he is at all of this.” He strides across the room like he owns it, looking down at me expectantly.
“Okay,” I murmur, wishing I had some bit of the backbone I’d shown when I’d been in the coffee shop with him. I fish around in my backpack until I can pull out the expensive case that came with it, and set the whole thing on my desk seconds before our professor leans forward to hold onto the case with one hand and open the zipper with the other.
He smells so good.The thought runs rampant in my brain before I can stomp it down, and when I do it’s only because he’s letting out a sigh I can almost feel against my cheek. His deft hands pull the camera free, examining it before taking off the lens cap to look it over more thoroughly.
“And here I thought you weren’t very interested in photography,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking to mine under long, thick lashes that would make any girl jealous. This close, it’s so easy to admire the strong line of his jaw, and the way his full mouth accentuates his face perfectly.Fuck.Oliver is right. No one this mean should be so pretty. “Where’d you get this?”
That’s not what I was expecting him to say, and no matter how hard I wrack my brain, I can’t remember the name of thewebsiteThrillingterrorhad me order this from.Fuck.Biting my lip, I realize that a lie is going to be obvious, though I’m not about to tell him the truth.
“Someone who means a lot to me got it for me,” I say, edging around the truth.Thrillingterrordoes mean quite a bit to me, just not in the way I’m implying. “They knew how interested I was in doing more with this class and sent it to me on Friday.”
He stops and looks at me, like he doesn’t believe me, before putting the camera back in the bag and zipping it closed again. “It’s nice,” he repeats. “It’s a definite step above the one that you had to get for this class, and I definitely suggest you use this instead. You know how to use this one, right Oliver?” he asks, almost seeming bored.
Oliver snorts. “Yeah, Rook. I think I do.” There’s a joke in his tone that I don’t quite understand, and our professor’s eyes flick to his, disapproval filling his expression.
“What did you call me?”
Oliver sits back, grimacing. “Sorry,sorry. Professor Solomon—”
“If you want to keep auditing this class, Mr. Greer, I think you should remember that I am still the one teaching it.”
To my surprise, Oliver looks… embarrassed. He shifts in his seat, looking away from our professor like he can’t quite hold his gaze, and nods again. “Sorry,” he says, looking like he means it more than I expect he does.
Professor Solomon snorts, and walks back to his desk when another student strolls in with their eyes on their phone to collapse in their seat near the back. I wait for him to go, and when he’s safely seated at his desk and hopefully distracted, I lean close to the still-tense Oliver. “Are you all right?” I ask, a little confused. “He wouldn’t really kick you out of here, would he?”
“Hmm?” Oliver blinks like he’s just realized I’m talking to him, and his eyes narrow. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just usually a lot better at not calling him that to his face.” Slowly the grin returns to his features, and he shakes his head as if to clear it. “Don’t worry about me, wonder girl. He’s more bark than bite.” But his voice is softer when he says it, like even he’s not too sure aboutRook’slevel of irritation with him. His hand wanders up to the back of my chair, and then to my shoulder, and before I can really register the brush of his fingers against the bare skin of my arm, he hugs me to him for a moment before letting go and sitting at a more proper distance from me.
Like he’s afraid our professor is going to get on him for that too.
I watch him during class, half-worried about my usually unshakable friend. Though… is he my friend, when he’s seen me stream and I’ve seen him do the same? Is he just my friend, when I spent part of Saturday night kissing him and desperately want to do it again?
When Professor Solomon announces that we’re free to go, and to remember to pick our partners for our first project, I hesitate.
Will Oliver be allowed to be my partner? He’s not exactly a student, obviously. Not in this class at least. But without him, there are an uneven number of students in the class.Withhim, everyone would have a partner.
“Be right back,” I murmur, catching Oliver’s surprised look as I get to my feet and walk toward Professor Solomon’s desk. Even before I get there I hear him sigh, like he’s dreading my arrival, and he looks over at me with his eyes on my middle first, at the line where my denim shorts rise to under my hoodie.
“Can I help you, Love?” he asks, and I can’t help flashing back to howThrillingterrorcalls me that as well. This isn’t the time tocompare the two, and a small frown creases my lips at the sound of my name from his mouth.
This isn’t the time, I chastise myself silently, lips pressed together as I stare him down like I can will him to my way of thinking. “I want Oliver as my partner for this,” I say, not asking. Maybe If I’m not as terrified, or I don’t act so frightened by him at least, he won’t say no.
Slowly his gaze drifts up to mine, and a frown curls his lips downward. “Okay,” he says blandly, the one word flooding me with partial relief.
“So it’s okay? Even though he’s not really a student in the class?” I can feel Oliver at my back, his hand at my waist for a moment, until Professor Solomon fixes him with an irritated look and he drops it.
“Yes, Love,” he sighs. “That’s what I figured you would do anyway. Though, I suppose I appreciate you asking me permission.” Is he… amused? Satisfied? Then again, he might just be disgusted, as he usually is at seeing me.
“Cool. All right.” I hover, uncertain, my hands balling into fists at my sides.
My professor glances down at them, then back up at my face. “Did you want something else?”
“No. Nope," I promise, still holding his gaze.
“Then let me be the first to assure you that you can go.” He turns away from me again, looking back at his phone as I beat a hasty retreat to my table. I scoop up my backpack, Oliver beside me, and I don’t stop until we’re close to our couch.
“You didn’t think he’d let you be my partner?” Oliver asks, stepping close and pushing me into the small alcove between the wall and couch.
