Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(138)

What resulted was a sort of dying bird squawk that reduced to coughs as I choked on my own spit.

How attractive.

“You okay?” Cohen asked, his dark eyes crinkling as he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess I forgot how to breathe there,” I said weakly, still trying to figure out how to use my lungs.

“I hear I have that effect on girls,” he said it flippantly, the smile obvious on his face. However, my body had a completely different reaction.

I froze, I knew he meant it as a joke—an offhand comment—but I couldn’t stop the painful, seven piece band my heart was now participating in. Stomach twisted in a knot, I fixed him with my normal glare, pretty sure my jaw was hanging open a bit more than what would normally be deemed natural.

A small laugh escaped him and my glare melted into a cringe. The seven piece band ceasing automatically and letting my heartbeat regulate.

I really wished I would have gotten over this ridiculous infatuation by now, but no, I had to be tormented.

I wasn’t lying when I said I had a crush on him. I simply knew he didn’t have a crush on me. If you ever need to be put in your place, ask your best friend to a dance in front of all of his friends. I think I hit the “friend zone” faster than any girl in history.

“So, how is college?” I asked before he could say anything relating to the friendship he hoped to continue with me.

I just hoped my hit-by-a-truck expression wasn’t too obvious.

“Great,” he said. My nerves loosened in the hope that he really hadn’t noticed. “Except for the core stuff. If I could sit in art class all day, I would. Have you decided where you are going yet?”

“Not yet,” I lied, knowing full well my mom had framed my acceptance letter to The University of Cincinnati and hung it in my room.

I just couldn’t tell him where I was going. It wasn’t a logical choice for a middle class girl from Texas. Cohen had chosen the University of Cincinnati because of their advanced School of the Arts. I chose Cincinnati because of Cohen.

I knew it, my mom knew it, my other best friend, Sarah, knew it. I simply didn’t need Cohen knowing it.

“There is always The University of Cincinnati,” he said and I almost fell out the window. My stomach swam uncomfortably at his words. I wanted to say he was just kidding, but the look in his eyes made me re-think that thought.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” I said softly, trying to fight the tomato red blush that was creeping its way up my face.

Luckily, Cohen didn’t seem to notice my new coloring, instead he leaned out the window until it looked like he was going to fall out and smiled.

“Think hard about it, Lex.”

It was probably a miracle that I hadn’t tumbled out of the window with the look he gave me. My fingers clenched the wooden frame in a mad attempt to steady myself. The smile that was now lining my face was probably a bit bigger than would be considered normal.

“Oh, I will, but I’m thinking of staying close to home,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. “You know, where it’s warm.”

“It’s warm in Ohio,” Cohen countered, one side of his lips pulling up.

I tried not to smile too much at the way his scruff crinkled with the smile. Instead I chose to look at his charcoal stained fingers as they tapped against the window frame.

“I’m sure it is,” I said, my focus still on his fingers. “Tell me, Cohen, did it snow this winter?”

“It did, Alexis. Big, beautiful white flakes that clung to everything, but don’t worry about that; I’ll keep you warm.” He smiled and I couldn’t help it, I laughed even though my nerves had gone back to their gymnastics meet.

I laughed, big loud and unattractive, and only a few seconds later he joined in. I wanted to believe that he was being cute and flirty, but I knew better. Besides, Cohen had never said anything like that ever. The mere fact that it had come out of his mouth was more humorous than anything.

“Don’t laugh, firecracker.” He fought the chuckle that was still sneaking its way into his voice. “I have a very effective space heater…”

The rest of his words died in my ears as my laughter and my mom’s call for dinner over-powered them. He was only talking about a space heater, not some form of uncomfortable (while still desirable) blanket sharing. Which was probably best, I might be begging for use of his space heater in six months’ time.

“Lex…” he growled and I looked at him, stabilizing myself against the window frame in an attempt to keep my laughter in. “I’m serious.”

“Uh-huh, and I have the plague.” I smiled brightly and he rolled his eyes just as my mom’s voice sounded again; she was louder and decidedly angrier this time.

I sighed and swung my legs back onto my desk just as the sound of my mom’s footsteps sounded on the staircase. That was one big downfall of living in such an old house; not only was it small, but every noise echoed around the rooms like it was happening right next to you.

“I gotta go,” I sighed, sure my voice sounded much more dejected than I wanted it to. Cohen’s face went from smiling to pensive dejection so fast it made my heart clench.

“Dinner,” I provided as if that made it all better.

“Well, you better come right back. I have a job for you.” His bright smile shone from across the ten foot gap.