AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah. Check this out.”
Adam pulled out his phone and started typing something while I grabbed everything on the table, bringing it back to the couch. He held up his screen, lines of letters and codes.
“What is that?” I asked, trying to make sense of it.
“It’s my grades.” He grinned. “Spanish is still fucking me over, but it’s above a C now.”
I stared at it. “What?”
“Look, it’s not anything you’d stick on a fridge, but this is pretty good for my record.” Adam shrugged.
“No, it’s—” I blinked, struggling with what to say. Because that was a complete surprise. “That’s so good, Adam. I can’t believe you…you brought them up. You brought them up? Wow.”
“Pretty good, right? Math is a kick in the balls, but office hours are helping.”
“You…go to office hours?”
“Yeah. When you have your coding workshops, what else am I supposed to do?”
I opened my mouth to reply but closed it just as quickly. What else could he do? What else could the Marrs Manwhore do in the forty-five minutes I took for a coding workshop? Anything. Everything. But I just shook my head and peeled open one of the antiseptic wipes.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing you up,” I replied. “That’s pretty incredible about your grades, Adam. Now, let’s get the blood cleaned off.”
59
Adam
How They Sell Movies
That was the thing with the ice princess. When she put her mind to it, nothing got in her way. If she was going to clean me up, she would clean me up. No matter how insignificant the whole thing was. Just freshmen being assholes. Nothing surprising about that.
“You don’t have to do this,” I reminded her
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m waiting on an interview, Piper. I have to talk to a podcast.” I stretched back to check the door. Still shut. “They’ll be here soon.”
“That’s even more reason not to have blood on your face.”
Piper tucked her legs underneath, sitting up on her knees. She pressed two fingers against the side of my face. Gently, she tilted me to the right to have a look. Still touching me.
Holy shit.
I tried to focus on the couch or where the paint chipped on the walls or the ugly-ass lamp, but it was hard to tear away from the skin-to-skin contact, the soft, gentle way she touched me. The warmth under her fingertips. The sweet smell of her perfume.
My breathing labored. I gripped part of the couch cushion away from her eyesight. Away from where she could see me and how hard I was struggling to stay normal.
Carefully, she cleaned my face in smooth strokes.
Giving me no choice but to look at her.
Trying to remain calm, I gazed into those doe eyes of hers, a soft gray, narrowed in concentration. Her pink nail polish drifted in and out of view while she cleaned me up, moving even closer, breathing in my air, forcing me to react every time she moved. The moment she shifted anywhere, I slipped in even closer.
“See?” she murmured, showing me the blood on the wipe.
The table got me worse than I thought, but I’d fall on it again if it meant Piper, touching me. Hell, I’d take a ball to the chest.
