I glanced down at the red, bold-faced seventy-three staring back at me. “Sorry, sir. I’ll try harder next time.” I trudged on back to my seat and slid into my desk, shoulders hunched, clutching the mocking pieces of paper.
But I studied! How had I let this happen? I’d have to kick my own ass to get my GPA where I needed it to be now.
Fanfuckingtastic.
Blake slid back into his seat. His lips were dipped low in the corners, and he wouldn’t look me in the eyes. By the look on his face, I didn’t have to ask how he’d done. Better than me. Peering at my paper, he offered me a sympathetic smile. “It’s not so bad.”
“Shut up. It’s bad and you know it,” I bit back.
“Well, it’s not great, but it could be worse.”
“I’ll never be able to salvage this.” I threw the booklet down in frustration.
“Sure you will, if you let me help you.” He looked at me hopeful.
I dreaded having to agree to this since the first time he offered. I didn’t like asking people for help. I buried my face in the crook of my arm and swayed my head back and forth.
No. No. No.
“Come on. I’ll make it fun. I promise.” He rubbed soothing circles on my back.
I talked into my arm. “Fine.” I could feel satisfaction oozing from his pores and was already second guessing my decision. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Me?” He acted shocked and hurt at my insinuation.
I snapped my head in his direction. “Yes, you. And quit acting all innocent. I know you better than that, Mr. Turner.”
Blake turned his attention back to the front of the room, but he couldn’t help the huge grin slithering across his face. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
My footsteps echoed on the wood floor as I searched for an unoccupied table. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this. I claimed a vacant seat, and thumbed through my nasty little blue book while I waited, unable to figure out where I’d gone wrong.
“May I?” Blake whispered loudly in my ear, gesturing to the empty seat beside me. His warm breath prickled my skin.
“Stop doing that to me,” I chastised in a harsh whisper, grabbing my chest.
“Doing what? It’s a library. We need to whisper.”
“Just behave. No funny business or I’m leaving.”
He held up his hands and leaned back, adding space. “I didn’t know we needed to be so formal. Is this an acceptable distance, Miss Ricci?”
“Yes, thank you.” Truth was, I couldn’t concentrate with his heat so close. His aura wrapped around my brain like a snake, smothering it until I couldn’t think straight. Which is probably why I had failed in the first place. Who could concentrate with a sex-exuding god sitting mere inches from you?
“Hand over your booklet. Let’s start with that.”
Reluctantly, I slid the horrid little book across the table.
His beautiful fingers glided back and forth over his squared off chin while he read through my pages. That one action only amplified my awareness of him.
“Hmph.”
“What?” I stretched my neck over his shoulder, wondering what he saw.
“Your use of superlatives is excessive, don’t you think?”
I frowned. “Superla-what?”
“Superlatives. Best. Most. Widest. Longest. I know you’re trying to make a point, but everything can’t be superior. Calm down with that.”
“Okay,” I drew out. Now he’d piqued my interest. Originally, I wasn’t sure what I would take away from this little study session besides some wet panties, but maybe he knew more about all this than I thought. I couldn’t help but stare as he drummed his fingers against his lips. Giving the bottom lip a little tug, oblivious to my growing discomfort, he continued, “And you’re misusing your vocabulary.”
“What do you mean?” Professor Sorrenson had given us a bunch of words to use in our essays, and I meticulously memorized every single one of them. I was sure of it.
“The words. You’re mixing them all up.”
“That can’t be. I studied them so much, they’re imprinted in my brain for life.” I squeaked in a harsh whisper.
“I’m telling you, Angel.” He read from my booklet, “The digital nascent in which we live is making human interaction non-existent? When technology was milieu, one could never have predicted the solitude it would bring forth?” He raised his brows, waiting for the light bulb to go off.
I snatched the paper from his grasp, scanning it in disbelief. “Oh my god, I did! What’s wrong with me?” The professor must think I didn’t even bother to learn them. I banged my head on the desk.
“It’s okay. I’ll teach you my little trick.” He folded a page vertically and began to write words down the left margin. Then he opened it and inside the hidden piece, he wrote the definitions. “When you’re not with me, this is how you’re going to test yourself. Keep the answers hidden and don’t stop until you get them all right. Also, we’re going to make sentences for each of them you couldn’t possibly forget. Trust me.” There was that evil glint again.