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It doesn’t help that he keeps leaning toward me to whisper humorous one-liners whenever the professor pauses to write something on the blackboard. Each time he moves close, I catch the delicious scent of bergamot, vetiver, and spice.
I keep my lips pressed firmly together, refusing to acknowledge his humor, even though it nearly puts a stitch in my side to resist.
Finally, my first hour of class is done for the day. The professor wraps up by assigning us a new Shakespearean comedy to read over the next few days. I make a note in my book before packing my stuff and rising from my chair.
“Ready?” I ask Ellie, turning to her. We have the next class together as well and usually walk together.
“I’ve got to ask Professor Lutz a question about our paper due next week. You go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Ellie waves me off from her folded position as she digs through her backpack.
“Have fun.” I turn to exit our row and find Cassio standing at the end of it, watching me.
“Ready?” he asks as I approach, needing to pass him in order to make my way toward the door.
“Ready for what?” I demand sharply.
“I thought we might walk to class together today, seeing as Ellie is otherwise occupied.” His hazel eyes twinkle with mischief, telling me he knows just how antagonistic he’s being.
I huff. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“What would be the fun in that?”
I roll my eyes and march toward the door, trying fruitlessly to outpace his long stride. He keeps up as if unaware that I’m trying to leave him in the dust.
“Has anyone told you you’re annoying?” I demand. “Why are you bothering me, anyway?”
“I like your fire. And I’ve always loved how full of life you are. Your creative self-expression is inspiring, and if I’m going to graduate in theater, who better to spend time with than the girl who gets my creative juices flowing?”
The heavy-handed compliment vaguely reminds me of Lucca’s flirtation with Ellie the first time they met, and my annoyance flares into a deep-seated irritation as I wonder if Cassio’s not trying to make a move on me. The slick git.
“Yeah, well, how about you fuck off? Do you likethatcreative self-expression? I’ve already told you… I don’t want to be around you,” I snap.
“Why not?” His tone is playful, his smile easy.
God, why does he have to be so positively infuriating?If he weren’t so set on ignoring our kiss and the two years of stone-cold silence that followed, he’d probably have a clue. But if he’s not willing to acknowledge what he did, then I’m not about to humiliate myself by confessing how much it hurt me.
“If you must know, I find you extremely irritating.” I glare at him to emphasize my point.
“Well, being irritated is better than being indifferent. That means you feel something for me, so I’ll take it as a good thing,” he says, his eternal optimism grating against my nerves.
“I’ve never felt anything for you,” I disagree, jerking the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder as I stomp across the quad.
“Never?” he presses skeptically. “Not even when we kissed? I’m pretty sure you felt something then.”
Heat flickers in his gaze, making my stomach quiver, and I grind my teeth. There’s no way in hell I’m going to admit it, but his bringing it up throws me off balance after he’s spent so long pretending like it never happened.
“You’re delusional,” I state flatly.
“Oh, come on. You can’t deny that one. I felt it, and I promise you I have enough experience in the kissing department to know when a girl feels it too. But if you’re not willing to admit your feelings for me, then I’ll just have to prove they’re there.”
“And just how do you plan to do that?” My lips purse with skepticism as I whirl to face him, stopping dead on the sidewalk.
Cassio stops with me, mischief playing across his lips. “Go on a date with me, and I’ll show you.”
“No,” I say flatly. “I would rather drop dead than go on a date with you.” I spin on my heel and continue marching away from him.
“Ouch, shots fired. Come on, Bianka. One date. What could it possibly hurt?”
He has absolutely no idea. One date could completely destroy me.After how wrecked I’ve been for two years from one night of kissing?There’s no way. “No,” I say again.
