Alan laughs.
Dean nods hell yeah. "Everybody come he
re." His playful voice bounces around the room.
Everyone turns his way.
Looks at him.
Hangs on his words.
Dean commands attention, friendship, respect. All he does is smile and a dozen girls fall over themselves trying to claim him.
A dozen guys want to be his friend.
The world is his oyster.
"Why should I listen to anything you say, Maddox?" Alan teases back.
Dean's shrug is effortless. Why should I bother exerting a single ounce of energy on anything? "If you don't want me to blow your mind, go ahead. Leave."
"Maddox, I don't want you blowing anything." Alan laughs.
I roll my eyes. How original.
Dean's eyes catch mine. He shakes his head not great, huh?
I fight my smile.
Every day this year, he turned our art class from my happy place to my deal with Dean's constant teasing place.
He doesn't get a smile now.
Even if my body is buzzing with nervous energy.
Even if my limbs are light and airy.
Even if my sex is aching.
I must be blushing, because he's smiling wider. Knowingly. Like he's sure I'm eating out of the palm of his hand.
He turns back to the group. "Truth or dare."
"I'm not fourteen," someone says.
"Sounds like you're chicken." Dean turns to me. "What do you think, Chloe? Are you chicken?"
"No." My heart thuds against my chest.
My head fills with ideas. Every dirty dare he could offer me.
His hands in my hair.
His groan in my ears.
His lips against mine.
God, those soft lips.