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Her pen flopped on the paper and she turned, finding me a little closer than she’d expected. A hitch in her breath and her rapidly warming cheeks told me I affected her, even as she tried to scowl.

“Josh, what are you doing? We said—”

“Oh, relax. If anyone asks, I’m helping you with Intellectual Property Law.” I leaned back and draped an arm along the back of my chair, grinning wolfishly.

“I-I don’t need help with that!”

“Oh, yeah?” I picked up her pen and traced the phantom of that frown with the end of it. “I saw this from outside,” I chuckled.

“Stop it,” she hissed, yanking it out of my grip and stuffing it into the case.

“What? I’m not touching you.”

I smirked in a way that said I deeply resented it.

“You gotta go. Pri’s already asking about my ‘mystery man’. If she sees…”

“Is that what you call me?” I teased, the corner of my mouth twitching as I pulled her cup towards me and frowned at it. “You know, you should switch to tea. Coffee makes you agitated.”

I swirled the contents and took a brazen sip that set her cheeks on fire.

“Oh my god,” she whisper-hissed, torn between grabbing it out of my hands and combusting on the spot.

“What did she ask?” I deflected, stealing another sip.

She shook her head, let out a groan—as if forfeiting her coffee—and crossed her arms. For all the world to see, she’d snapped back to the woman who hated my guts, but for the way she kept glancing at my mouth.

“She asked what you’re like. I told her…” She cleared her throat. “… sweet and easygoing.”

Her expression turned sheepish, and I tipped my head back and smothered a laugh with my palm.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “And go. People are staring.”

“We’re in the library… and hardly doing anything.”

I set her cup down in front of her, a silent dare of sorts. My gaze flicked around, to the many pairs of eyes surreptitiously watching us, but my mind was spinning far away from that.

Pri was asking questions, why hadn’t Liam?

Why hadn’t he given me crap for grinning at my texts?

I must be hiding it better than I thought.

“Besides, I have something important to show you,” I said, in my best mock-serious voice. The decision made itself in the split second before I pulled out my phone, but the hum in my bones told me it was the right one.

The cinema site blinked on the screen as I nudged it towards her. She took absentminded sips while she scrolled, mouth brushing the spot where mine had been. A buzz of satisfaction shot through me, heady like the finest whiskey.

Then, she peered up at me, brows knotted with a silent question.

“We said after New Year’s. It’s after.”

I shrugged, a flimsy veil over the way my pulse kicked up and my spine stiffened.

“Wh-what? You’re not—Really?”

Disbelief, bargaining, and tentative hope chased each other over her face, and my chest pinched in until it strangled my heart. The taunting edge to my smile evaporated.

“Yeah. Pick a genre.”