I just heard about our history teacher, and I want to know if he’ll laugh when I do.
I want to strip the jacket off him, to unbutton that shirt and—
“So, I’m helping with tickets for prom,” Pen plows on. “How many can I put you down for? I have it on good authority you’re an excellent dancer.” Her eyes turn wicked.
Brandon swallows a laugh. “You a good dancer, Pen?”
“I’m terrible,” she says proudly.
“I can make up for it. Go with me.”
My friend blinks, taken aback. “Um… are you serious?”
I bite my cheek.
“I thought I had a date, but Tyler refused to take me.”
Tyler flips off Brandon with a smirk.
“Okay. Sure, I’d love to.” Pen regains her composure, glancing toward Tyler and me. “See, children? It’s not that hard.”
With a wink, she and Brandon set off down the hall. I’m flushed when I turn back to Tyler, tilting my chin up to meet his amused chocolate eyes.
“Wow. I’m not sure what happened,” I comment.
“Me either.”
He rummages in his locker for books. His Gatsby paperback falls out of the locker, and we both bend to grab it. My head hits his, and I groan, rubbing the spot as I straighten.
“You okay?” he asks. “Knowledge is dangerous.”
“Not the worst excuse to avoid studying but maybe not a doctrine to live your life by.”
Tyler grins as he brushes the hair back from my forehead, inspecting the spot where our heads clunked.
It stops hurting.
Suddenly I’m thinking about how we’re a foot apart and what he’d do if I stretched up onto my toes to kiss him right here. Whether he’d pull back with a warning look or exercise his right as prince of the entire damned place and press me into the lockers like he didn’t give a fuck who was watching.
“So, I know you said you don’t dance,” I say, “but you’ve already broken that rule—”
“I’m not asking you to prom, Six.”
Disappointment floods me. “This wasn’t a fishing expedition for a corsage. I just figured it could be fun to go as friends. Now that we’re friends again.”
Tyler turns away, shutting his locker with a click before rounding on me. “I don’t do dances.”
“Right.” I look past him. “Guess I’ll see you later.”
His mouth twitches. “Not so fast. Walk me to class.”
I shift my bag over my shoulder, and when I drop my hand, his fingers brush mine.
Every inch of me should not be tingling.
I match my steps to his, not wanting to miss that touch.
“So, I tried the guitar after you left,” Tyler comments.
I’m distracted when his thumb starts lightly stroking the back of my hand.
“The neck’s perfect,” he goes on. “Twenty-four frets. It’s a dream.”
“When can I see you play it? I mean, hear you play it?”
I expect him to say no, but he surprises me. “Tonight. After rehearsal.”
A shiver of anticipation buzzes through my body. “Deal.”
As we pull up near his class, I add, “You don’t think we’ll be interrupted by college girls?”
We’re not even dating, but the idea of him with anyone else has something white-hot streaking through me.
“Not my type.” Tyler turns to face me, and I miss his touch already.
It’s that sudden emptiness that has me asking, “I thought high school girls weren’t your type?” in a coy voice that isn’t mine.
Tyler glances down the hall. Before I can breathe, he drags me behind the open classroom door, his hand threading through my hair as his body pins me against a locker.
Oh.
My.
God.
Tyler.
His kiss is fire. Hard and sharp and branding.
His lips skim my jaw, making me tilt my head up to give him even more access. My mouth falls open in shock at the scrape of his teeth along my ear, my breath falling out in pants.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he murmurs against my skin.
With a last hot look, he slips into class and leaves me thrilled and boneless against the lockers.
Rehearsal is fucking brilliant. I’m hitting every song, the dialogue, the choreography.
I’m invincible.
“Excellent, Annie,” Miss Norelli says after we finish the hardest number and I grab my water at the corner of the stage. “Something’s really clicking with you. Your costume will be ready for a final fitting the start of next week.”
My chest expands. “I get to keep the role?”
“You get to keep the role. I know I said I wanted the girl who auditioned, but you’re not her. You’re better.”
Hell yes.
I want to scream it to the world. I nearly dash off a text for Tyler, but I decide to savor it for a