Well, it’s working. This feels like just the distraction I need.
I tear the piece of paper out of my notebook and hand it to him. He takes it from me, his fingers brushing mine, electricity sparking between our fingertips. “You should keep this.”
“I’ve already got it up here.” He taps his pen against his temple.
“Really?”
“I remember everything about you, Wren.” His gaze turns serious. “Every single little thing.”
My mouth goes dry as I think of that moment in the back seat of the car. Or the classroom. My gaze drops to his mouth, and I’m filled with the urge to kiss him again. Right here, in the middle of class.
But of course, I don’t. I would never do that. I don’t want people talking. I definitely don’t want anyone knowing about our earlier interactions.
“Want to work on this after school?” he asks, his deep voice breaking through my thoughts.
“Where?” I ask breathlessly.
“The library.”
I should say no. There’s no reason we need to work together on this. I can go back to my room and work on my list for the rest of the afternoon, though it probably wouldn’t even take me that long. I can complete my parts of the outline, so we can put them together tomorrow in class.
Sitting up straighter, I part my lips, ready to turn him down.
“Okay,” is what I say instead.