A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )(19)

I leave my desk and make my way back to Crew, who’s sprawled in his seat rather insolently, his expression one of pure boredom, his body language telling me he’d rather be anywhere but here.

I step over his feet and plop myself into the empty desk next to Crew, which was just abandoned by Ezra. “Did you prepare anything for today?” I ask, knowing what his answer will be.

“No.” He lifts his heavy-lidded gaze to mine. “Did you?”

Nodding, I flip open my notebook to the list of questions I jotted down earlier this morning, when I realized I had no choice, that whether I liked it or not, Crew would remain my psychology partner. “I came up with a few questions.”

“For me?” He sits up straighter, rubbing his hands together. “Let me hear them.”

I send him a strange look, surprised by his behavior. I don’t understand this boy. I know I wouldn’t be eager to hear any questions he might have for me.

“They’re simple questions—” I start, but he shakes his head, cutting me off.

“Nothing is simple when it comes to you, Birdy. I get the feeling you’re going to try and figure me out.”

He’s so right, not that I think I have a chance in doing so, not with the limited time we have to work on this project.

Figuring out Crew Lancaster and what motivates him will probably take months. Maybe even years.

“That’s what we’re supposed to do,” I stress, leaning across the desk. His gaze drops, lingering on my chest, and I realize a second too late, my breasts are basically resting on top of the desk.

I pull away, my cheeks going hot, and when he returns his gaze to mine, he’s smirking.

“I have an idea,” he says, and I momentarily forget my embarrassment, just grateful he’s willing to come up with something.

“What is it?”

“Let’s make a list of our assumptions about each other.” It’s his turn to lean in closer, those glittering eyes of his never leaving mine. “I’d love to find out what you think you know about me.”

I don’t want to know what he thinks about me. I’m sure it’s all terrible, more gossip than facts. Most of the guys at this school don’t care for me, only because I won’t succumb to their charms.

I sound like my mother with that term, but it’s true. I don’t fall for the coercion, or their lies. They flatter, they say what us girls want to hear, and next thing we know, we’re on our knees for them. Or beneath them in a bed, or a car, or whatever dark, supposedly private place they can get us into. They ask for provocative photos, claiming they’re private, and then they share them with their friends. Making them a mockery.

They don’t respect women. And that’s the problem. They’re all a bunch of bros, who are eager to add girls’ names to their sexual conquest list. That’s it.

That’s all we are.

Even Franklin and Maggie, who I thought were sort of solid, really aren’t. Theirs is a volatile relationship that I wouldn’t want.

None of the relationships at school are ones I long for. The boys are either too forward, or too immature. I’m not a particularly religious person, but I do value my body and my morals. My parents have always stressed how careful I should be when choosing who I eventually share my love and my body with.

They do their best to talk me out of being in any sort of relationship with someone right now, especially my father.

“Well?” Crew’s deep voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I blink him back into focus. “What do you think?”

“You’ll be nice?” My voice is cautious.

“You want real? Or do you want nice?”

I guess when it comes to Crew and his opinion of me, they don’t go hand in hand.

Good to know.

“Real,” I say, sounding a lot more confident than I feel.

“I want the same. Lay it all out, Birdy. Tell me all your secret thoughts about me.”

His words make me bristle. How can he take something that sounds so innocent and make it seem dirty? “I don’t have secret thoughts about you.”

“I’m disappointed.” He chuckles, the rich sound making me warm. “I have all sorts of secret thoughts about you.”

Interest flares deep, and I mentally tell it to stop. I don’t care about his secret thoughts of me. “I don’t want to know them.”

“You sure about that?” His brows knit together. He seems surprised.

I shake my head. “Absolutely. I’m sure every one of them is lewd.”

“Lewd.” He chuckles again. “Nice word choice.”

“I’m sure it’s accurate.” I flip past the list of questions I created in my notebook, smoothing my hand across the fresh clean page. “Are you ready?”

“We’re doing this?”

“Let’s set a timer.” I grab my phone and open up the clock app. “Ten minutes?”

He nods. “Tell me when to start.”

I set my phone on the desk and grab my pencil, my finger hovering above the start button as Crew grabs a pen, clicking it a couple of times, I’m sure only to bother me. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go.”

I start scribbling immediately all of the things I’ve heard about Crew over the years. A few of my own assumptions. Considering we’ve never really talked before, I have no clue if any of the things I’m listing are actually true or not.