Page 26 of The Storm

Stop!

“Give me the keys,” I say.

He leans closer. Tilts his head slightly.

“Make me.”

We stay very still for a moment.

I shove past him, heart pounding, round the car, and get into the passenger seat.

He laughs.

I hate him even more.

I look upand blink when a backpack lands on the table right next to me. The legs of the chair drag over the tiles with a screech, and I wince as the sound carries through the otherwise quiet library.

Nick takes a seat next to me, and my whole body tenses. I know he notices. I know that’s why he does it.

We’ve moved past loathing and gone straight into torture.

He doesn’t dismiss me or ignore me anymore, instead he searches me out. Because some twisted part of him finds it funny. That twisted part of him gets a kick out of it when I get flustered around him.

He pulls out a textbook. His foot bumps against mine under the table. He keeps it there, and the words swim on the page infront of my eyes. I watch as he licks his thumb to turn the page from the corner of my eye.

A violent shiver races down my spine.

He notices.

Of course he notices.

“You okay?” he asks casually.

“Fine,” I say in a clipped tone.

He leans closer, and I freeze in place.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look nervous, Blue. Any particular reason?”

The teasing tone makes the urge to punch him triple in strength.

He stretches, arms over his head. His shirt lifts. Just an inch.

Heat rushes through me so suddenly it feels like anger.

He leans closer.

“I bet you hate this,” he says in a low voice.

I clench my jaw and my fists and turn my head just enough to look him in the eye.

“Good,” he says.

His knee is pressing into mine deliberately now.

It’s over too soon and yet not soon enough.

He gets up and disappears between the shelves.