As I walked into the archive, the dusty smell of ancient books joining me, my eyes darted toward the table in the corner. Whenever Avery and I had a free period, we met here to study — at least that was what we told people. Usually our time was occupied by kissing and faint murmurs between the brushes of our lips.
It had been a couple weeks since our periods had aligned correctly, so my lips were curled up in a smile as I entered.
That, however, faded when I noticed a new face. Seated beside Avery on one of the parallel benches was a blond boy. He looked no older than eighteen, although his young features were a contrast to his sharp eyebrows.
At the moment, they were drawn.
Although both he and Avery were facing my direction, neither looked up from the textbook they were sharing.
My fingers twitched at my side, annoyed.
I'd never seen him before.
Nor had I ever seen Avery talk to anyone besides my relatives.
As I approached, my eyes anything but soft, Avery lifted her chin and met my eyes. She looked neither surprised or ashamed, although she should have been. The only boys I wanted sharing her company were my brothers — and even then, I preferred she keep her distance from Grayson.
Trying to keep my face neutral, I took a seat on the bench opposite them. "Morning, Heiress."
Avery's lips twitched. "Jameson."
"Afternoon, actually," the boy beside her corrected.
Yeah — I already disliked him.
Keeping my gaze on her, I asked, "Who's your friend?"
Her gaze dropped to the table. As she traced her delicate hand over the wood, she said, "Timothy. He's new."
My eyebrows lifted. Besides Avery, he was the only new student we'd had.
I held out my hand to him, but he ignored it. Already annoyed, I laid my hand on the table as though that was my original intention.
When I met Avery's gaze, her lips were trying not to smile. While it made me feel better, I still didn't understand why she was putting up with him.
"Are you helping him with something?" I asked her.
Avery opened her mouth, but Timothy cut her off. "I'm helping her," he explained, much to my displeasure. "Chemistry homework."
"You know I would've helped you," I told Avery.
"You aren't taking chemistry," she pointed out.
"I know," I murmured, still refusing to meet Timothy's gaze. "But I'm smart. And you like me better."
Avery sighed. "Jameson, really. He's just trying to help."
"Did you ask him to?"
"He offered."
Timothy jumped in. "And she said yes."
"That's because she's polite," I murmured in return, trying to keep my voice from leaping five octaves. "I would know, since I live with her."
"Let's not get into that," Avery said, jumping in before our mellow argument could turn into a brawl.
But Timothy wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were pinned on me as he said, "Bet she picked you off the streets."
What I didn't tell him is that it was technically the opposite. My family took her in.
Avery shifted her eyes to Timothy. "Maybe I should have introduced you two."
"No need," he declared, slamming his textbook shut. "I know enough already."
With that, Timothy stood, his blond head of hair flying as he made his way out of the archive. I sighed a breath once he was gone. Avery said nothing for a few moments.
When she did, however, she was glaring at me.
I held up my hands in surrender. "He was asking for it."
"I know," she muttered. "But he was helping me, Jameson. And now he'll probably never talk to me again."
"Doubt it." Pulling a pen from the pocket of my wrinkled button down, I twirled it between my fingers. "I know how guys look at a girl when they like them, okay?"
Avery rolled her eyes. "He doesn't like me."
"Maybe not yet. But he's definitely attracted to you."
Most guys did — girls too — especially now that she had inherited so much.
Avery shifted her eyes to me. I stood, kicking my bag a couple feet away in the process, and joined her on the opposite side of the table.
Avery eyed me. "Don't tell me you're jealous."
"I won't then."
Sighing, she rested a hand on my bicep. "Haven't we been over this? I picked you, not Grayson, remember?"
"We aren't talking about Grayson," I murmured, drawing her closer to my chest. "We're talking about Timothy."
"I hardly know him, Jameson. And even if I did, I'd still be your girlfriend."
It took me a couple minutes to accept her words. I knew Avery wasn't one to lie, or cheat. But I was definitely still going to get jealous when she was with other boys.
When I'd finally mulled over the thoughts, my fingers hooked onto her hips and pulled her up against me.
"Promise?" I murmured in her ear.
"Promise."
My lips curling into a crooked grin, I trailed a few kisses down her neck. "Good to hear, Heiress."
Avery's back arced, giving me easier access to her bare skin. My hands hitched on her waist, ensuring she wasn't about to fall off the bench. After kissing her for a couple minutes, my lips strayed back to her ear.
"I'm sorry," I said lowly. "I guess I scared away your tutor."
"He's not my tutor." Avery tugged on my collar, guiding my lips through another precession of kisses. "And I'll forgive you under one condition."
"And what is that, may I ask?"
My breath was hot on her cheeks as my heartbeat accelerated. Avery's breath was even warmer, though, when her lips aligned with mine.
"The next time he sees us," she said, tracing her fingers over my upper chest, "kiss me in front of him."
My eyes fixed on hers as I murmured, "Deal."
