The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,102

over at me with those beautiful bright eyes of his, strands of silver hair falling across his forehead.

“Huh?” he asks, cocking his head slightly to one side. He's seriously looking at me like I'm an alien. Then I remember that I'm supposed to be a guy, and that's a pretty stupid question. That'd be like asking a girl if her period cramps hurt. Hah. Hahaha. Yeah. We all know they do.

“I mean, for me it feels good, so …” I hedge, knowing I'm totally fucking this up. I feel like Steve Carell in The 40-Year-Old Virgin when he tells the other guys that boobs feel like bags of sand.

“You like having a giant, useless boner?” Spencer chokes out. He pulls out a screwdriver, and starts undoing the current lock, glancing over his shoulder like he's trying to figure me out. “You really are a weirdo, aren't you, Chuck Carson?”

“Maybe,” I start, but at least he's 'seen' proof of my, erm, dick, so he won't be as apt to question things. Ranger's right though: I'll have to tell him eventually. Just not now. Not yet. “Could you maybe turn around, so I could put my pants back on?”

Spencer narrows his eyes, but does as I ask, waiting until I give him the all-clear before he turns around. He tucks his hands into his pockets and looks down at me with an expression that's half want, half frustration.

“I'm not sure I'll ever be able to clear that sight of you from my mind, ass up, tie in your mouth …” He sighs and reaches up to scrub a hand down his face. Leaving his palm over his lips and staring at me over the top of it. “Pretty sure that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life. I just … like, maybe I'll freak over the dick, but I won't know until I've tried, I guess.”

My lips quirk into a little smile.

“You're too cute,” I murmur, grinning and tucking some hair behind my ear. My glasses drift down my nose and Spencer reaches up to fix them for me.

“How so?” he asks, sounding a tad suspicious.

“You're willing to go outside your comfort zone. A lot of guys would probably lash out at me because they were uncomfortable with their own feelings. Not you though.” Spencer listens to me talk, and then his mouth curves up in a sly half-smile.

“I guess. Does that mean you're willing to go on a date with me?”

I bite my lower lip, and slide my eyes to the side, looking everywhere but at him.

“I … ask me next week,” I say, turning back to him and exhaling. Fuck it. I'll just pick a day at random and tell him. But somewhere public. Spencer gives me a raised brow, but he turns back and finishes his work on the door as I sit on the bed and watch.

“I'm going to hold you to that, Carson,” he murmurs, and I grin. Good. I hope he does.

I steer the conversation to safer waters—like spring break plans—until Spencer's declared his work done. He's installed a metal kick plate, dead bolt, chain, and brand-new locks, as well as a door stopper.

“Even the best thief will have to cut a hole in this door to get in,” he tells me, checking the window next, and adding a few locks to that, too. It's not as important as we're on the seventh floor, but it makes me feel better anyway. “If you need to go to the bathroom, text one of us. We'll take it in shifts.”

“Thank you,” I say as Spencer picks up his bag and gives me a look.

“For what?” he asks, pausing on his way out the door.

“For protecting me,” I tell him, pushing him out and closing the door most of the way. “And for … waiting to ask me out.” We exchange a long, lingering look before I close and lock the door, listening as Spencer fiddles with it from the outside.

I almost call him back.

But if I did … I'm not sure what would happen between us, only that it'd be racy and wild, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it. Not yet.

The next few weeks are pretty uneventful, to the point where it all sort of becomes this big game. Sometimes we trudge around campus, exploring hidden areas that only Spencer seems to know about, and trying the gold key on any lock we can find.

There are no more notes, no more chases, just Culinary