Page 143 of Make Me Mean It

I was doing fine.

For approximately thirty seconds.

And now Theo’s looking at me like that again.

“Asshole,” I mutter, tearing my eyes away before he can enjoy this any more than he already is.

A flush crawls up my neck. I can feel it reaching my cheeks.

“Get dressed,” I repeat, turning my back on him, a low chuckle following me across the room.

My textbook is sitting where I left it on the desk, and I grab it, carrying it back to the bed like I’ve developed an intense interest in studying. Anything is better than standing there watching Theo climb out from under that sheet.

Fabric rustles behind me, and I stare determinedly at the cover of my textbook.

There’s another soft scrape of clothing against skin.

I drop onto the edge of the bed and flip it open before I do something stupid like turn around.

I make it halfway through the first line before the mattress dips behind me.

My head tips forward, lips twitching up.

Theo settles in behind me, and apparently getting dressed hasn’t made him any less of a problem. His legs slide around either side of my hips, thighs pressing against mine as he slots himself against my back.

I go completely still, not because I want him to move, but because I want the exact opposite.

His chest moulds to my back, warm through my shirt, and then his chin hooks over my shoulder.

“You know,” he hums, his breath brushing my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I think I prefer you like this.”

I frown at the page. “Like what?”

“Wearing my clothes.”

I shove my shoulder back into him, warmth curling in my stomach.

Theo laughs.

“You’re such a dick,” I huff, but I have to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from smiling.

This is ridiculous.

I came up here for a pen last night.

Now I’m sitting in Theo’s bed wearing his clothes while he wraps himself around me like we’re something I still don’t know how to name.

I force my attention down to the page, Theo shifting behind me, his hand snaking around my side.

“Theo.”

He ignores me, his fingers grabbing the edge of the textbook and snapping it shut.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah?” he breathes.