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“You gonna tell me your name? Or do I have to call younot interestedorlittle girl?”
“If this is about the incident in the library…”
“What incident are you talking about?” he asked innocently, his eyes giving nothing away.
Either he was lying or he didn’t care. “Never mind.” I turned my attention to my laptop and acted as if I could concentrate. However, I could feel his gaze on me, making the room heat up.
Then, my laptop was slammed close as his large hand splayed across it. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Getting your attention.” His voice was as casual as the small smile he sported. “Your name? I can do this all day.”
“It’s Natalie. Now, can you leave me alone and stop with this…”
“With what?”
“Game or whatever.”
He leaned his head to the side and narrowed his eyes slightly, but he still had his lips quirked in a semi-smile. “That’s twice you’ve implied that, but I can assure you the only game I play is on the field. And I’m quite good at that one. So, I’m kind of lost right now at what you mean.”
I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to reply, but was cut off when our professor started talking. “Today we’re going to delve into gene therapy…”
Axel turned his attention to Dr. Longley, where it seemed to stay. As our instructor droned on, I noticed he was taking notes just as furiously as me. One time, his head popped up, and he caught me watching him. He only lifted the side of his mouth before turning his attention back to the lecture. I did, too, but I could feel the heat in the flush of my cheeks. For a torturous hour, we sat side by side. He didn’t make a move to tease me again.
I was puzzled—distracted was a better word for it—and I couldn’t focus on the lecture, although I took notes. Dr. Longley could’ve been talking about how Frankenstein was the ideal specimen, for all I knew. Axel shifted in his seat, and his elbow inadvertently bumped mine. He whispered a quick “sorry” while I felt goose bumps travel up my skin. He was a big guy, which left little space between us—the epitome of a well-toned, defined machine.
I inwardly cringed at my description of him. Jeez, this was surreal.
When our professor finally wrapped up his spiel on genetics, the auditorium rumbled with the murmur of students and the clap of closing books and laptops. Following suit, I gathered my things, shifting out of my seat with the intention of making my exit. I had another class to get to. I wouldn’t think about the weird convo or not-so-much convo that took place between us.
I made it past the auditorium doors, already resetting my brain to move on, and then a deep voice that was too close called out, “Wait.” Then a hand was on my elbow.
Shocked, I stopped, but not by choice, because he held me still. I rolled my lips and stilled my beating heart. I wasn’t brave or confrontational by nature. However, this guy was rubbing me the wrong way. I felt like I was an unwanted punch line to an inside joke.
I forced up all my courage. “What now?”
“Ease up. I don’t bite. Just wondering if you’re hungry.”
“No,” I answered sharply. Too sharply.
“You look a little hangry. Maybe we should go grab a bite to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t say hungry; I saidhangry. You know what that means, right? Haven’t you heard of the acronym HALT? You’re either hungry, angry, lonely, or tired.”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes again. “Are you a psychologist?”
He laughed without remorse. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m well-versed in all the psychological bullshit.”
I averted my gaze. “I’m not any of those.”
“You sure about that? When I said I was well-versed, I wasn’t kidding. I know this shit like the back of my hand.”
Before I could answer, his grip was firm on my arm, but not hard enough that it hurt. His touch was actually soft. I glanced down at his long, tanned fingers briefly and pulled away. “I’m not hungry.” My stomach took it as a cue to voice itself.
“Your stomach tells a different story.”Damn it. He heard my stomach growl, since I hadn’t eaten anything this morning. “Let me buy you something to eat.”
“I have another class. Sorry.”
