Page 40 of Wrong For Me

Leo

Iam treading on dangerous ground.

But as much as I tell myself that, I can’t seem to shake the low thrum of excitement I feel being this close to Rose again as we walk together back to the psych building. Part of me wants to get her to talk, to try and make her laugh, to see if her giggle is as musical as I remember it being. I want to lean over and get a whiff of her hair, the lavender scent of it teasing me since she showed up in Hernandez’s office. Even worse, I want to reach out and take her hand, find out if I imagined that current of electricity between us when our legs brushed back in the lecture hall.

God, that lecture hall. It was impossible to concentrate on a word the orientation speakers were saying with Rose mere inches away. I couldn’t seem to stop looking at her, wondering if I was the only one feeling the overwhelming rush of chemistry crackling in the air between us, the same way I’d felt it back in Lake Tahoe.

And that’s the exact reason why it’s so dangerous for me to be feeling this way. Because our night together clearly meant very different things to us. I’d thought it might have been the start of somethingreal,as crazy and unexpected as that was. Rose, on the other hand, apparently assumed I was just looking for a meaningless hook-up followed by a quick buck selling out her family name.

But even that knowledge isn’t enough to make me stop wanting to pull her closer. To reacquaint myself with those soft, plush lips. To run my fingers over her smooth, warm skin. To watch her blue eyes fill with desire for me. To see if I can make her whimper those breathy sounds again, like she had in my bed.

I am so screwed.

I somehow manage to restrain myself as we walk in silence back to the psych building. But as soon as I locate our office, my heart plummets. It had looked small before but now, with Rose standing beside me, it just looks miniscule. There’s no way I’m going to be able to get anything done crammed in here with her. Not when I find her so completely distracting.

Rose must be feeling the same way because her face falls. “This is it?”

Somehow, hearing my anxiety mirrored in her voice sets me off. “Not spacious enough for you, princess?”

She stiffens, leveling me with a glare. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t act like you’re above everything.”

She gapes at me, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she manages to get words out. “I don’t think I’m above everything,” she says through clenched teeth. As I watch, her cheeks grow noticeably pinker. That shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. Her cheeks had gotten pink when—

“And don’t look at me like that,” she snaps, making me jump when I realize that I’ve been mindlessly leaning closer to her while I studied her face. Damn it. I need to get a handle on whatever this is.

Instead, like the brilliant asshole I am, I decide to push her some more. “Don’t look at you like what, Rose?” I ask, voice dropping a few notches while my gaze zeros in on her lips.

She blinks several times, like she’s caught off guard. Finally, she straightens her shoulders, pulling herself together. She points at me, her brightly polished fingernail—blue, like her eyes—right in my face. “Likethat.”

I take a step closer. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes! I mean, no. I—” she shakes her head, clearly flustered. “Why are you being like this?”

“Being like what?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” she says. She’s breathing faster now, the flush migrating south to her neck and the top of her chest, and it takes a great amount of effort to keep my eyes above her chin.

When I don’t answer, she throws up her hands. “You’ve been an asshole to me since the moment I showed up in Hernandez’s office,” she snaps. “You’re clearly pissed to see me here—”

“Like you weren’t surprised?” I interrupt.

“Of course I was surprised!” she shoots back. “You were the last person I expected to see here.”

“How do you think I felt? I don’t remember you saying anything about having a job. You get that that’s what this is, right? Being a teacher’s assistant? It’s a job. Probably not something you have much experience with.”

She points at me again, this time her finger coming up to jab me smack in the middle of my chest. I feel a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to grab it, to use her hand to pull her closer and to—

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” she snarls. “You’re being a complete jerk and I don’t understand why.”

“Really?” I ask, incredulous. “You can’t think of a single reason why I might have a problem with this arrangement?”

She runs a hand through her hair and I wish I could do the same. I remember the exact silky texture of those strands slipping through my fingers. “I get that it might be a little awkward,” she says. “But Idon’tget why you’re so angry about it. I mean, come on, Leo. If anyone has a reason to be angry here it’s me.”

“You?” I question, voice too loud. “You thinkyouhave a right to be angry about what happened?”

“Yes!” she shouts back, fists clenched at her sides.