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Her brows jump. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be if you get stuck, but I can try my best.” She holds up her textbook. “I have to work on a paper for my gender and sexuality class.”
“Oh, fun.” I nod, not having a clue what that is. “Alright then, il mio cuore, let’s get to work.” I wink.
Her cheeks break out into a light shade of pink. Is she blushing? She smiles softly and looks down at her textbook.
Did she finally figure out what I’ve been calling her all these years? I used to ask her why she didn’t just Google it. She told me she liked how it sounded and wanted it to be a mystery.
If she does know what it means, what does she think about me calling her my heart? Because it’s not a lie. Other than my family, she’s the only one who has a place in it.
For the next half hour, Lilly works hard at whatever she’s doing, and I just watch her. I’m trying not to be so obvious about it, but it’s hard not to. She looks so sexy when she’s deep in thought.
Her pencil is trapped between her teeth, her brow scrunched as her eyes skim across the pages of her textbook. And when it’s time for her to write something, she mouths everything she writes down.
Grinning, I try not to chuckle at how adorable she is.
She looks up at me. “Are you done?”
“No.” I lean back, placing my arms on the backrests of the couch and my right ankle on my thigh, still grinning at her.
She blinks a few times, that blush finding its way back to her cheeks. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“You're staring at me.”
“So?”
“It’s weird.” She narrows her eyes.
I chuckle. “You’re cute.”
That gets her brows jumping. “I-I am?”
I nod my head. “And adorable.”
“You're fucking with me.” She narrows her eyes again. “Get back to work.” She points to my book.
She looks back down at her textbook, doing her best to pay attention as I get up and move to join her on the couch, needing to be closer to her.
“What are you doing?” she mumbles, not looking up from her book. I scoot closer to her until I’m right next to her face.
“Let’s go do something fun.”
“I’m working,” she whispers.
“Pleeeeease,” I beg. “I wanna do something fun.”
“This is fun.” She glances up at me, then quickly back down to her work.
Reaching over, I tuck the loose piece of bangs behind her ear, and a smug satisfaction fills me when she shivers just a little bit.
“Babe, you're one of my best friends, and I respect the shit out of you.” I chuckle.
“Thanks,” she grumbles, still looking down.
“But you're crazy if you think this is fun.”
She sighs and closes her book. “Alright then, fine. You win. You're lucky I’m pretty much done. And by the way, you're the one who wanted to come here and study.” She raises a brow.
