A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )(18)

“Lay off, mate.” This comes from Malcolm.

I ignore them both, focusing all of my attention on Wren. “Where am I supposed to sit then?”

“You can sit at my desk.” She points at the empty seat in the very front of the room.

I grimace. “No thanks.”

She rests her linked hands on top of my desk and the wildest idea comes to mind.

I decide to go with it.

Dropping my bag on the floor, I stop right next to Wren’s—my—chair and sit down, nudging her over, which isn’t too difficult.

She weighs nothing, and doesn’t take up much room on the chair. Her scent is heady, like a burst of wildflowers in the middle of a spring meadow. She’s warm and soft, and she fits perfectly by my side. I sling my arm around the back of the chair, half-tempted to pull her onto my lap.

“Crew!” She’s squealing. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” She angles her head toward mine, and our faces are so close, I can make out the faint freckles across her nose. Of course, she has freckles. She’s sweetness personified. “I’m sitting at my desk.”

“I told you to go sit at mine.” For someone who looks ready to swallow her tongue, she’s pretty damn calm. The only tell being her pulse fluttering rapidly at the base of her throat. Her lips part, soft puffs of breath leaving her, and I wonder what she’d do if I leaned in and pressed my mouth where her pulse throbs.

She’d probably freak the fuck out.

“I told you yesterday, I don’t like sitting in the front.” I draw a finger down the center of her back, and she jumps. “Guess we’ll have to share.”

The bell rings, Skov waltzing in at the last minute, doing a double take when she sees Wren and me sharing a seat. “Don’t you two look cozy.”

Nervous laughter sounds from the class, Ez included. Wren sits up straighter, her hands still on top of my desk, her attention for the teacher and no one else.

I don’t bother looking at Skov. I’m too enraptured with the delicate curve of Wren’s ear. The tiny pearl earring dotting the lobe. The smooth skin of her neck, how perfectly glossy and straight her dark hair is. She parts her lips, her gaze flitting to mine quickly before she looks away.

She can feel my eyes on her. Good. Do I make her uncomfortable?

Or does she like it?

My vote is uncomfortable. She’s not used to male attention.

“Crew, sit somewhere else, please,” Skov orders.

“Wren is sitting at my desk.”

Skov is mildly amused, I can tell. She points at Wren’s empty spot. “Then come sit at her desk.”

“I don’t like sitting in the front.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Skov crosses her arms. “Come on.”

“I’ll go,” Wren says, sending me another one of those quick looks. She doesn’t seem mad. More like she’s afraid to go against authority. “I don’t mind.”

Ezra and Malcolm both groan their displeasure at losing their rapt audience of one, and I send them a murderous look.

It does nothing to shut them up, the assholes.

Wren slides off the chair we’re sharing as Skov begins taking attendance, and I immediately miss her warmth. Her scent. She’s rattled, if her shaking hands are any indication as she snatches her notebook from the top of my desk and clutches it in front of her chest.

“Can I leave my backpack here?”

Nodding, I sprawl in the chair, as if I don’t have a care in the world, but damn, I’m a little rattled too.

Having her so close threw me.

And I don’t like it.





EIGHT





WREN





I don’t like being made a spectacle in front of the entire class, and that’s exactly what Crew just did. Attention doesn’t bother me, as long as it’s not negative.

What he just made happen felt negative. Almost mocking. Shoving me to the side, so we could share his desk chair, even for those brief few minutes, had been annoyingly…

Pleasant.

He’s solid. Hard muscle and hot skin. Broad shouldered with a wide chest and strong arms. Being so close to him, his arm slung behind me and across the back of the chair, I felt as if I was in a Crew Lancaster cocoon. And I liked it. I liked having him close. My heart started to race with having him so near.

It’s still racing.

I settle into my seat, dropping my notebook on top of my desk, keeping my attention on Ms. Skov, who’s wrapping up attendance. The hairs on the back of my neck slowly rise, and it takes everything inside me not to turn around and see who’s staring.

I already know. I can feel his gaze on me, heavy and brooding. As subtly as I can, I glance over my shoulder, catching his eyes on me and no one else, and then he does the strangest thing.

He smiles.

It’s small and quick, and if I told anyone else it happened, no one would believe me, but oh my God, Crew just smiled at me, and my stomach feels like a million butterflies just took flight, their fluttering wings making me tingle everywhere.

All from a brief smile.

What in the world is wrong with me?

“All right. Pair up with your partners. We’re all set there, right?” Skov settles her gaze on me, her thin brows shooting up. I barely nod, embarrassed at being called out yet again. “Okay. Get to work.”