A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(9)

“So you’ll let us switch then? I bet Natalie would love to do this project with Crew.” I think they were together at some point over the last couple of years. At the very least, they hooked up.

Ew.

“No, I’m not going to let you switch. The whole point of this project is to learn about someone who isn’t like you, who is part of a different friend group. You and Sam went to prom together last year so that means he’s out as a possible partner,” Ms. Skov says.

Everything inside me withers and dies. “It’ll just be easier. I’m comfortable with Sam, and Crew makes me…uneasy.”

“In a threatening way?” The concern in her voice is very, very real.

Maybe this is the weak spot, where I can burrow my way into getting what I want. “Yes, he always has such a horrible look on his face.”

“So he’s never actually threatened you in any way?”

This is where my honesty gets me. “No. Not really.”

His mere existence feels like a threat, but I can’t tell her that. I sound like a horrible person for thinking such a thing, let alone managing to say it out loud.

“I think you need a challenge, Wren. You’re always wanting to help people.”

“Girls,” I stress. “What do any of the boys have to worry about at this school?” I’m not condoning it, just stating facts. “They’re all golden. Untouchable. They can do whatever they want, especially the one whose name is everywhere we look.”

My skin grows prickly with awareness when I sense someone approaching. I can feel his warmth, smell his deliciously intoxicating scent, and I know.

I just know who it is.

“Is there a problem?” Crew asks, his deep, rumbly voice touching something foreign inside of me.

I brace myself for Skov to tell on me.

“Miss Beaumont had a few questions on the project. Right, Miss Beaumont?” Ms. Skov smiles broadly at the both of us.

I nod, keeping my head down. I can feel his gaze burning my skin as he watches me, and I’m worried if I look into his eyes, I’ll turn to stone. Like he’s freaking Medusa with a bunch of coiled snakes as hair.

“You two should go sit down and get started,” Skov encourages.

“Okay,” I croak, daring to look in Crew’s direction.

To find him already watching me, the look on his handsome face so dark, my knees nearly buckle.





FOUR





CREW





Wren Beaumont is petrified of me.

I knew the moment she shot out of her seat and went to Ms. Skov’s desk that she was trying to get out of working with me. I could tell. Everyone else in the class was shifting into position, pairing up with their project partners, while I sat there by myself and fumed.

She’s making me look like a damn fool, and for what? Because she thinks I’m going to treat her like shit? Doesn’t she realize she’s only making things worse? She’s just too wrapped up in her own worry to realize what she’s done.

Typical behavior.

In tandem, we turn away from Skov’s desk, and Wren goes to hers, about to settle in when I speak up.

“I don’t want to sit in the front.”

A frown mars her pretty face. Because there is no denying it. Wren Beaumont is beautiful. If sheltered little prudes are your thing—which, apparently, they are for me. “Why not?”

“I’d rather sit in the back.” I indicate with a nod toward my desk that sits empty.

She turns her head, studying the empty desks surrounding mine and her shoulders sag in defeat. “Okay.”

Triumph ripples through me as I watch her grab her notebook and her backpack, my gaze dropping to her legs. She wears the skirt at normal length, which is too long in my opinion, and she has white knee-high socks on today, so I don’t get to see much actual flesh. Those stupid fucking Mary Janes are on her feet, but they’re not her usual Docs. They’re another brand and style, sleek and shiny.

Little Miss Virgin is changing it up. Nice.

I follow her to the back of the room, taking in the straight line of her shoulders, the glossy straight brown hair that falls down her back. She’s got the front pieces pulled back in a white bow like a child, and I wonder, yet again, if she’s ever been kissed.

Probably not. She’s as sweet and innocent as they come, with a diamond on her finger, promising her father she will keep herself pure until marriage.

I have no idea why I find that so damn attractive, but I do. I want to mess her up. Fuck her up. Fuck with her, actually fuck her until she’s completely addicted to me and forgets all about her virginal promises. Destroying this sweet, innocent girl feels like sport.

A challenge.

A game.

She daintily settles into the empty chair beside mine, dropping her notebook onto the desk with a loud slap. I sit next to her and lean back, sprawling my legs wide, my foot nudging against hers purely by accident.

Wren immediately jerks her foot away as if I scalded her.

“Are you going to get a notebook out?” she asks.

“For what?”

“To interview me. Ask questions. Take notes.”

“Skov said we’re getting to know each other. It’s the first day of the project. We still have a long time to go.” This chick needs to chill the fuck out.