Page 38 of Spin the Damn Bottle

“You made this?” he calls from my room.

I glance to find him standing next to my desk. Oh, shit, I forgot to cover the sculpture.

My new desktop's on the floor, to make room for the large sculpture I started in art class a few days ago. We do so many daily projects, we tend to throw out most of them, but I brought this one back with me to finish.

I need to build up as much art as possible for my portfolio in case I get an interview for college.

I hate that he’s looking at the bust on my desk. For one, it's unfinished, and I'm always sensitive about people seeing a work-in-progress. When he grins, there’s no doubt that he recognizes himself.

Really, I didn't have a choice but to sculpt him. Everything about him is so damn sexy, all lines and angles that make him the perfect subject. "If you break that bust, I am going to go ape-shit on you," I warn.

"Break it? I'm going to steal it and put it on our mantelpiece at home."

My cheeks flush. Lifting my chin, I smirk at him. “I plan on setting it on fire,” I claim. “Therapeutic, don’t you think?”

“And appropriate." He nods. "Get dressed. We’re going to be late.”

I scoff and shake my head. "Yeah, well maybe we wouldn't be late if you'd told me I was supposed to get ready ahead of time. At least tell me where we're going."

"What's the fun in that?"He's cocky as ever.

"It's Thursday. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" The winter break is starting this week.

“No, it can't, I'm afraid. After all, there's only one Black and White opening.”

My jaw drops.

I follow art news, especially local news, so I'm aware that a co-op of seriously talented, upscale artists are opening their owngallery. It's a private venue, strictly invite-only, but they've set up one public day per month. I'd totally planned to visit as soon as I could. But to be there at the opening? Meet the owners, investors, the artists?

"Oh shit."I pick up the first dress I get my hands on. They're all gorgeous anyway.

He meanders over to my bed, his hands splayed behind him to support himself as he watches me drop my towel and drag red velvet along my limbs. “Aren't I the best boyfriend?”

"Are you?" I challenge. "You still haven't asked me out. And I haven't accepted."

"I'm not one for rhetorical questions."

The mermaid gown hugs all my curves in the right places. Loving what I see in my full-length mirror, I select two pairs of shoes, following my mother's advice this time: I'll wear the flats and put heels on at the last minute.

“I love that color on you."

"You chose it. And everyone looks good in red."

"Agree to disagree."

I hurry to the bathroom and start on my makeup, my excitement making me clumsier than usual. I decide to pass on the liner, rather than risk messing it up.

When I return, Jace is flipping through the pages of my sketchbook. Part of me wants to rip my art from his hands. It's a lot more personal than checking out my panty drawer, and of course, the arrogant ass did so without even asking for permission.

But the thing is, I don't actually mind him looking at it, somehow.

He shuts it and gives me a slow once-over, his gaze lifting from my ballerina flats up my legs, taking his sweet time before he reaches my eyes. "I changed my mind. We're staying right here." Gaze hooded, he looks like he's considering devouring my mouth.

"I don't think so," I say, though minutes ago, I was the one arguing to stay on campus. "I'm not missing the opening."

David's waiting for us when we get in front of the lake. It's been six weeks and I'm still just as red-faced every time I look at his pretty blue eyes.

He's a professional and has never so much as sent me an inappropriate look, but I'm not about to forget what he's seen. The way he looked at me.