“Thanks, K. Now he thinks I was checking him out.”
“Well, I was checking him out,” she said, and then licked her lips. “He’s drop-dead delicious.”
“He’s okay.” My eyes flicked up to Mr. Powell. The marker was screeching on the whiteboard as he wrote the names of people I didn’t recognize. Wait, Reagan! Ha. One I knew! She was totally from King Lear!
Kira giggled next to me. “Sure, Tess. He’s only okay.” She grabbed her purple pom-pom pen and jotted down something from the board. “You are whipped cream,” she mumbled.
When class mercifully ended, I pushed back in my chair and dropped the ridiculously oversized book into my backpack. As I looked down at the speckled linoleum floor, I noticed a Birkenstocked pair of sandals pause and turn to me.
I glanced up the length of the body until I was staring into the face of the new guy, standing there in corduroys and a long-sleeve tee, grinning at me.
Straightening my posture, I pulled my eyebrows together.
“Hi,” I said. Wow, he was even better looking up close.
“You’re Tessa Crimson, right?” His voice was soft. I relaxed slightly.
“Um, yeah.” I slipped into polite mode. I was cheer director for a reason. “Tessa Crimson. Hi.”
“I’m Christian. Christian Ferril.” He outstretched his hand.
I took it without thinking, but when his cool palm touched mine, I felt my heart rate speed up. He was squeezing me just a little too tightly.
“Nice to meet you,” I said as calmly as possible. Where in the world had Kira disappeared? Discreetly, I tried to jet my eyes around the emptying classroom for her. She was gone. Great—it was her fault that I’d looked at him.
“How did you—”
“Know your name?” he finished for me, laughing softly.
I wasn’t sure why, but this hot surfer made me uneasy. Like he was in on a joke that I hadn’t heard the punch line for yet. I slipped into SOS mode, trying to seek out his ulterior motive, but then stopped. I had to remind myself that I was in school and not on a mission.
“Mr. Powell,” he said, tilting his head toward the front of the class. “He told me to see you for the notes from last week. He’s making me take the test tomorrow.” Christian rolled his eyes. “So he said to ask Tessa Crimson for the materials. And …” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his corduroys. “Here I am. Sort of embarrassing myself by rambling.”
Aw, it was nice of Mr. Powell to recommend me. Even though I was an A student, I was far from a brain. I’d certainly have to send him a polite thank-you note. I looked appreciatively to his podium.
“Tessa?” Christian asked.
I quickly turned back to him, realizing that I hadn’t answered. I shook my ponytail to clear my head. “My notes, right?”
He nodded and his grin widened, revealing a perfect set of teeth. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“No, of course not. They’re in my locker and I’m going there now, but—”
“Great. I’ll follow you.” He stepped back, motioning his hands for me to go.
Tentatively, I stood. Aiden would be waiting at my locker for me. How would he feel if I had a new pup at my heels when I met him? This felt odd. And I did not like odd.
Ducking my head, I walked forward into the near-empty corridor. This part of the building only had a few classrooms, so it was quiet, other than the squeaks that my sneakers were making on the shiny linoleum tiles. I suddenly felt a little self-conscious, wishing I wasn’t wearing my shorter cheerleading skirt. But Aiden had wrinkled my good one. I smiled to myself, remembering.
“So,” Christian said from behind me. “Cheerleading, huh?”
I straightened my posture and looked politely over my shoulder at him. “Yep.”
His tone was not lost on me. Being a cheerleader meant getting used to airhead jokes and other stereotypes. That was why I felt it was so important for the Smitten Kittens to keep their dignity intact at all times. Stupid skirt.
“I’ll have to admit I’m surprised to get study notes from a person that spends time on the top of a human pyramid. I expected more of the chess club type—”
“I play chess.” I swirled to face him. I was pretty sure my bloomers flashed because his grin became a full-on smile. Was he trying to ruffle my pom-poms?
“Really?” he asked, tilting his head and looking me over carefully.
“Yeah.” My cheeks felt warm. I didn’t like defending my intelligence. Turning slowly, I began to walk forward again. My eyebrows pulled together as I contemplated. Something was off about this boy. Something unusual.
We turned down the busy main hallway, and I immediately spotted Aiden, his head poking out above the rest of the student population. He was resting his forehead against my locker, looking bored. I smiled. Seeing him always made me smile. Forgetting my uncomfortable shadow, I jogged through the crowd and wrapped my arms around my boyfriend’s long body from behind. He jumped but then laughed before turning in my arms.
“Hi, baby,” he whispered, needing to duck way down to kiss me.
“You smell nice,” I said, getting up on my tiptoes to peck him again. He’d just gotten out of phys ed. The boy wore sweat better than any cologne.
“Mm …” His hand lightly patted my rear. “You know I love this skirt?”
“I do. I wanted to wear—”
Someone cleared their throat behind me. Right. Notes.
Aiden’s smile faltered as he straightened up. Feeling awkward, I pursed my lips and then dropped my arms from around him.
“Aiden. This is Christian,” I said, pointing to him. “Mr. Powell sent him to me to get history notes.”
My boyfriend immediately reached out his hand to Christian. “I’m Aiden Wilder. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”
Christian’s smile looked forced as he shook hands. “Yeah. We just moved, and I transferred in today from West Washington.”
“Ah, a Duck,” Aiden said, moving to put his arm around me. “Well, welcome to Wildcats’ territory.” Aiden was being so polite! He’d sure come a long way with his manners. Not that I minded that he was a little rough around the edges—it was pretty steamy.
“Thanks,” Christian said, looking between Aiden and me. “So, the head cheerleader and, I assume, the basketball captain?”
There was that tone again.
“Uh-huh,” Aiden said, happily and without a hint of distaste.