Page 29 of Evergreen

“It’s more than something,” I corrected, moving closer to examine his work. “You’re learning. And fast, actually. Glasswork is highly specialized.”

He looked down at the panel, flexing his fingers. The silver circles on his palms were still glowing faintly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. “How many of these am I going to have to do?”

I glanced around the greenhouse at the empty sockets in the metal frame where the glass used to be before the lightning. There had to be at least fifty holes, maybe more. Each one would need to be painted into place. Some of them were easily forty feet off the ground too.

“A lot,” I admitted. “But we can work on this over the next week or so. We don’t have to do it all today.”

“Good,” he said, setting the wand down carefully. “Because my hands are already starting to hurt and I think I’m going to need a break.”

I nodded, understanding. Channeling magic through the circles took effort, especially when you weren’t used to it. “Come on. Let’s go relax for a bit.”

I led him back to the lab where we’d mixed the salve for his blisters. He collapsed onto the stool like his legs had given out, and I couldn’t help but smile at how dramatically he was reacting to the exertion. It was endearing, actually. The way he threw himself into things despite his constant complaining.

I filled a glass with water from the tap and handed it to him. He drained it in one long gulp, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with the motion. A single drop escaped the corner of his mouth and trailed over his jaw and down his neck. For some reason, it kind of turned me on.

“You did good work,” I said, refilling the glass for him. “Really. You should be proud.”

He looked up at me with those green eyes, and I felt that familiar flutter in my chest. “I’m only doing this because I have to.”

“Yeah, but you’re actually trying,” I replied. “And I appreciate that. This place is special to me, so I’m glad you’re trying to fix it.”

He set the empty glass down and leaned back on the stool, his head tilting back slightly as he stretched his neck. The movement exposed the line of his throat, and I had to force myself to look away before my thoughts went somewhere they probably shouldn’t.

“So what happens next?” he asked, his eyes closed. “Do we just keep practicing on broken glass until I’m good enough to do the real thing?”

“Pretty much,” I said, taking a seat next to him. “Although, we might want to start introducing raw silica soon. Once you get the hang of the technique on damaged panels, the raw material will actually be easier to work with. It’s more malleable when it’s heated, but that makes it a little more unpredictable.”

“Of course it is,” he muttered. “Why would anything about this be straightforward?”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Despite his complaining, I could see how hard he was trying. How much he actually cared about doing this right, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. It was one of the things I was starting to like most about him. He liked to pretend he hated everything, but he actually cared a lot more than he was willing to admit.

Without really thinking about it, I reached over and placed my hand on top of his thigh. “Thank you for helping me with this,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

Cass stared at my hand for a moment before reaching down, grabbing me by the wrist, and pulling it higher up his thigh. I couldn’t help but gasp slightly as my pinky came to rest against the bulge in his jeans.

“If you’re going to touch me,” he grumbled, looking up at me. “Do it like you mean it.”

Heat flooded through my body all at once, my jeans suddenly tighter. Instinctively, I flexed my fingers, digging them into his thigh a little harder. “Like that?”

“Better,” he nodded.

I leaned forward, closing the distance between us until my lips were almost brushing against his ear. “We should probably get back to work,” I said, even as my hand stayed exactly where it was, my fingers tracing small circles against the denim of his jeans.

“Fuck work,” Cass breathed out, and then he was turning toward me, his hands coming up to grip my shoulders. He pulled me down, and I went willingly, my mouth meeting his in a kiss that was all lust and a large amount of tongue.

My free hand came up to cup the back of his head, my fingers threading through the soft dark strands of his hair. The sensation was starting to become addictive.

My hand that had been on his thigh moved upward, and I felt him gasp into the kiss as my palm pressed against his hardening cock. Through the barrier of his jeans, I could feel the head of his dick pulse against my hand. If I hadn’t been hard before, I was now.

“We should stop,” I murmured against his lips, even as I had no intention of stopping. “Someone could come in.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Cass said, pulling back just enough to look at me. His green eyes were dark with want, his cheeks flushed. “Do you?”

I considered lying. Considered doing the responsible thing and stepping back. But the truth was, I’d been thinking about this since our talk. I wanted to know if he meant it, that he wanted to give me the real college experience.

“I want to do this,” I said, forcing myself to pull away. “But we should go to my room first.” I looked into those beautiful green eyes of his. “I’ve never done this before so I might need some direction.”

Cass just grinned, kissing me again. “Well, good thing I love bossing people around.” He stood up, his jeans bulging obscenely, and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go.”