“Sexy,” he rasped, voice still heavy with sleep. I loved the gravelly texture of his voice when he first woke up.
Rolling my eyes, I tossed my hair up and smeared a dab of toothpaste onto my finger, using it as a makeshift toothbrush. Not very effective, but at least it chased away the morning breath.
“Laptop?” I asked, stepping back into the bedroom. It was days like today that I was grateful Micah and Brock didn’t share a bathroom like we did back in the dorm.
His hand made some sort of swirling motion toward the desk, his head still snuggled up against the pillow. Envy struck me. I wanted to be back in that bed, not rushing to a lecture on the principles of marketing. As a marketing major, it was a requirement.
Picking up the laptop, I shoved my wallet and phone into my back pockets. Before heading out, I leaned down and kissed Micah’s cheek. He was quick. Before my lips eased away, he grabbed my wrist and yanked, sending me tumbling forward. I landed sprawled on top of him, the laptop between our chests, no doubt exactly what he planned.
Blowing pieces of my hair out of my face, I glared down at him. “Keep your hands to yourself, and don't you dare think about kissing me. I’ve got to go.”
“I know. Are you sure you can’t spare one kiss?” he asked, intentionally dropping his tone.
My heart skipped.Be brave. Be strong. Be resilient.A breath later, I replied, “I already did.”
Micah’s fingers roamed over my jeans. “Cheeks don’t count.”
“Does a knee to your junk count?” I wiggled my knee up between his legs to get my point across. It would only take one quick jerk to bring my point home.
He laughed as he squirmed on the bed and pushed me off him. “Go. Get out of here before I change my mind and ravish you.”
I scooted off the bed, clutching the laptop to my chest, and walked backward toward the door, grinning. “Tonight?”
A hand dove into his hair, causing some of the strands to stick out. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long.”
I reached behind me for the doorknob, my eyes still on him. It was like I couldn’t look away. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you like me. What does that say about you?”
My lips moved up, and I opened the door. “That I need to study harder,” I said, walking out and leaving behind temptation.
I raced across campus to the business division, not far from Micah’s house, thank God. I pounded the pavement, zigzagging around students, and came to a fast walk once I was in front of the building. Rushing into the hallway, I found the stairs, taking them two at a time to the second floor. The room was easy to find, the second door on my left.
My breath came out ragged from my haste, but my efforts paid off—I got to class with a minute to spare, just enough time to find a seat. I quickly scanned the rows of theater-style seats. This was one of the larger classes, seeing as it was a requirement for most of the business degrees and plenty of others. I entered an empty row and plopped down, my racing heart slowly returning to normal. Before the professor entered, I opened Micah’s laptop and was greeted with a password screen.
Shit! What the hell is his password?
It would be something stupid, nothing practical or sentimental like his birthday or my name. I didn’t bother to try and crack it; that was Fynn’s department. Instead, I dug out my phone and sent him a text, praying to God he was still awake and hadn’t already fallen back to sleep.
This cannot be my luck. What are the chances that I finally make it to class but am so damn unprepared?I didn’t even have a notebook or pen. These days, those were practically archaic.
A body dropped down in the seat to my right as I waited impatiently for Micah to text me back. I stared at the screen, begging those three little typing dots to appear.
The person next to me shifted, settling into their seat. My knee bounced under the laptop, and I nibbled on the end of my nail.
Come on, Micah.
A throat cleared, drawing my gaze to my right. I didn't pay him much attention, my mind on other matters, until I saw a flash of his amber eyes. Then I fully looked at the person next to me, hoping I was wrong. It couldn’t be him.
It was.
Sterling.
Of all the classes, did he have to be in this one?
He slouched deep into the worn fabric of the chair, his knees pressing into the back of the one in front of him. He slipped a pencil behind his ear and grinned at me. “Hey, Splash. It’s nice to see you finally made it to a class… and not soaking wet.”
I stopped fidgeting as a curse flew through my head. Not all the events of last night were crystal clear, but one part was stamped into my memory—my promise to Micah. Keeping that promise might be more difficult to uphold if Sterling kept showing up everywhere. “Sorry, that seat is taken,” I said the first thing that came to me in a pathetic attempt to get him to move.