Thankfully, by the time school ended, everyone knew Madoc's joke was just that . . . a joke. At least the douchebag proved honorable in correcting the rumor. I still hadn't come to terms with the fact that I'd said yes. Homecoming was still two weeks away, so hopefully I'd find a way out of it. As proven in the last month, a lot could happen in a short time.
Lauren wasn't in Themes class, so instead of fighting to not look at her, I had to fight to avoid Ben looking at me. Life could be a bitch. I was going to Homecoming with the one person in this school who made my skin crawl, I was getting attention from a gorgeous, star football player that I couldn't care less about, and I was having wet dreams about a potential sociopath who acted like she hated me most of the time.
Eight more months.
"Hi, Dr. Porter." I smiled tiredly as I walked into the lab after school. Since the room wasn't available tomorrow as we'd scheduled, I'd opted to take him up on the offer to work today. Coach had given us the afternoon off, so it all worked out.
"Hi, Camila." Dr. Porter was a middle aged ex-hippy who often left his long, rust-colored hair flowing free and drops of coffee dangling from his scraggly mustache and beard. My first few classes with him sophomore year were irritating. I kept wanting to take a napkin to his face.
"How long can I stay today?" Dropping my bag on the floor underneath my usual table, I looked to Dr. Porter.
"I'll be around for at least an hour, probably more." He gathered some folders and papers, trying to find a way to grab his coffee cup, too. "Do you need anything?"
"I'll go get my crate from the closet, and I know where everything is that I need."
"Good. I have a planning meeting with the Science department, but it's in
another classroom. Feel free to come and get me if you need anything. I mean it. Room 136B." He headed for the door.
"Okay, thanks." Grabbing a heavy vinyl apron off the coat rack, I slid it over my head and tied it around my waist. The tie scratched at my back in the small sliver of space where my jeans and top failed to cover my skin.
Digging my supplies out of the closet, I nearly dropped the heavy load as soon as I walked back into the classroom. Lauren sat at the teacher's table up front.
Hell.
She leaned back in the chair with her hands behind her head and one foot propped up on the edge of the table. Her eyes gave nothing away, but her stare was focused entirely on me. That alone made the heat rise to my face and a cool sweat seep out of my pores.
Damn her. Why did she have to look like that?
The softness of her lips, and her tongue hot and heavenly on my neck flashed through my memory. An anxious twitch started between my legs, and I really wanted to straddle her on that chair.
Shit. I was a walking time bomb of nerves.
I shook my head and averted my eyes as I carried my crate to my table. "Not now, Lauren. I'm busy." Honestly, that was the truth. I needed to focus, and as much as part of me wanted to indulge in this drama, I needed to be left alone.
"I know." Her smooth voice was strangely calm. "I came to help you."
I stopped unloading the crate and stared at her wide-eyed. "Help me?" My tone dripped with sarcasm as I was sure this was either a joke on her part or an effort to sabotage my experiment. "I don't need help."
Dropping her arms, she stuffed her hands into the front pocket of her black hoodie. "I wasn't asking if you did," she replied, quickly and assertively.
"No, you're just assuming." Continuing to unload my materials, I avoided her eyes. That damn dream kept coursing through my mind, and I was scared that I'd give something away if I looked at her.
"Not at all. I know what you can do." There was laughter in her voice, and I didn't miss the double meaning in that remark. "I thought that if we're going to be friends, this might be a good place to start."
Getting off the chair, she walked towards me. I breathed in and out slowly.
Just take the beaker and flask and set them down slowly. Nice and slow.
"I mean, it's not like we're going to be able to go back to climbing trees and having sleepovers, is it?" She asked suggestively as her fingers grazed the lab
table.
Sleepovers? My core started pulsing harder, and I knew my body was ready
for what it needed. I felt it.
The idea of having Lauren for a sleepover, even though she was joking, thrilled
me. Damn, I'd love to let her keep me up all night doing things that we sure didn't do as kids. I wanted her hands on me, bringing me close, and her mouth all over.
