Little Favours

Chapter 3

Thursday started with the kind of bright, breezy energy that made Alisa feel like she could finally exhale.

Everything had finally, finally fallen into place: Tom had agreed to her idea, confirmed with the student council president, and smoothed everything over with his bandmates. Not to mention, her classmates were ecstatic over the news. The rave around Midnight Vinyl was impossible to ignore, and upon announcement, this collab had officially become the university's most talked-about event.

And though she tried to match their excitement, Alisa found her thoughts narrowing to a single, daunting task: Tom was on his way here, and she was supposed to take his measurements.

The knowledge that Tom and his bandmates had even agreed to wear their designs—provided the clothes didn't restrict movement—had sent the whole studio into a frenzy. It wasn't as if she could hand this task off to someone else. Her classmates had conveniently busied themselves, talking in hushed voices and stealing glances her way as she set up her supplies—a measuring tape, notepad, and pencil.

The studio door creaked open and the wariness she thought she'd lost around Tom found its way back to her. There he was, looking as effortlessly cool as ever, with his dark hair perfectly tousled and that easy posture she'd started to associate with him. But today he was dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans—no leather jacket, no edgy band tee. And somehow, that made him even more distracting.  Alisa felt something flutter uncomfortably in her stomach, a reaction she reminded herself was not worth acknowledging at the moment.

He paused when he saw her and cleared his throat, offering a tentative smile that, if she didn't know better, looked almost nervous.

"Hi, Alisa." he greeted, his voice quieter than usual, like he was aware that every single person in the room was now watching them.

"Hey," she replied, a bit breathless despite herself.

The designers around them whispered and exchanged knowing looks, which made Tom shift his weight from one foot to the other, his shoulders hunching slightly. Alisa drew in a breath, willing herself to ignore them, and mentally ran through her checklist. Measuring tape, notepad, pencil. Steady hands. She just hoped the last one would show up soon.

"So, um, let's get started?" she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Arms out ... please."

Tom complied, lifting his arms slowly, carefully, as if he were worried about doing it wrong. His shirt shifted, riding up just a bit. Alisa felt her cheeks heat at the sight of the skin just above his waistband. She stepped forward and looped the measuring tape around his chest. Her hands, however, had other plans and seemed intent on trembling, especially when her fingers brushed against him. The space between them felt impossibly small, and she was hyperaware of every breath he took, how his chest expanded under her fingers.

Satisfied, she pulled away, looping the tape around his waist next. She couldn't stop noticing the way his jeans hung low on his hips, the way he looked down at her with a mixture of curiosity and ... something else. Something that made her feel dizzy. And she doubted it was the Jo Malone cologne he was wearing, no, she rather liked that scent.

"Comfortable?" She cleared her throat.

"Quite."

The awareness that he might be just as nervous as she was felt strangely comforting. Ignoring the way her heart tripped over itself, she moved on to his arms, wrapping the tape around his bicep. She felt the muscle flex slightly under her touch, and Tom stiffened, pressing his lips together.

His eyes dropped to the floor, clearly trying not to look at her as a smile formed on his lips. "Starting to think this is just an excuse for you to get handsy."