Page 96 of Ignition

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her head tilted to the side, gaze flicking from her notes to the pair of us. “You’re still stuck on the presentation polish?”

“Oh, gods, I completely lost track of time,” Mia mouthed, eyes widening as they darted to the clock on the wall, and mine followed to see we’d been talking for at least an hour.

Christ.

She scrambled up and snatched her things, giving me a look I couldn’t decipher, one that lingered a heartbeat too long. Pri was watching me like a hawk, but I only shrugged, feigning the casualness of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Her arm hooked around Mia’s as she steered her away, like an overprotective mama goose, and a chuckle bubbled in the back of my throat.

I wondered what she’d say if she knew I was taking her friend out on a date and planned to kiss her stupid.

Chapter twenty-eight

Mia

I was out of my mind.

There was no other explanation.

Maintaining a facade of polite disinterest while clawing at each other in stolen moments shouldn’t have been as fun as it was, but everything faded when his mouth met mine: my thoughts quietened, my worries scattered, and all that remained was the heat and the delicious thrill of not getting caught.

“Earth to Mia,” an amused voice drawled from across the room, where Pri sprawled in my bed and surveyed me as I tried things on, humming to Fire and the Thud by Arctic Monkeys playing on my phone.

Or, more accurately, she watched me scurry around in a tizzy, searching everywhere for a skirt that turned out to be on the very hanger in my hand.

Night had fallen outside, leaving only the warm glow of my desk lamp, the chandelier above the bed and the candle on my night table, of which I caught little calming whiffs of ylang-ylang.

“Sorry, I’m a bit all over the place,” I huffed with a small wince, shrugging my dark brown tights on and trying not to tear this pair, like I had the previous one, heart galloping so hard, my ribcage might burst.

“Yeah, I bet.” She cast an appraising eye over me as I shrugged the woollen, patterned skirt on, before she peeked up at my neck and arched a brow at the little bruises.

“Is that the workout you skipped Zumba for, by the way?” She scolded, though her eyes were glinting and her mouth had pulled into a catlike grin as she handed me one of the many sweaters scattered on the bed.

My face caught fire. I focused on trying on clothes, an act which hid my blush and my eyes from hers as I mumbled a “maybe” that sounded more like a squeak.

“Where are you even going?” She sat up cross-legged on my bed, clad in soft pyjamas.

“To the movies.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, where the warmth had spread.

“Ohh!” She clapped her hands together. “A little making out during the movie…” She waggled her eyebrows.

An entirely inappropriate image flashed through my mind, and I wondered if I should lose the tights. My hand found the pendant, fiddling with it and nearly knotting it around the chain.

“Apparently not. He’s a movie nerd,” I bit out, a touch more irritated than I’d meant. A split-second later, I shook my head and slipped into the soft butter-white sweater I’d worn that morning.

Pri’s smile turned knowing, as if she’d peeked behind my eyelids and spotted the frustrated hunger underneath. With all our make-out sessions, he hadn’t let me so much as pull off his shirt.

“Oh, well. There’s always after,” she said. Then, in full older sister mode, she made me download an app that would show where I was and linked it to her phone.

My lips curled into a grateful smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, before her teasing resumed, and I sought to hide my face again.

By the time I crossed the quad, guided by the warm glow of lamp poles, I was a blushing mess and my coat hung open, desperately needed winter air rushing over me.

I passed through the wrought-iron gate, the bubble of excitement in my chest deflating as an irrational, stupid thought kicked up inside me. I knew why he hadn’t picked me up right out front. We’d agreed on it, but the cruel voice slithered in the corners of my mind, whispering he’s ashamed of you, over and over.

I was still a little ticked off when I spotted him, leaning against the same wine-red sports car, wearing a dark coat and a pale blue sweater and jeans underneath.