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His brows furrowed, and she couldn’t tell if it was at the instructions for the oxides or her. ‘No, I’m not. I just don’t think I’ve grasped all this chemical stuff yet, and I haven’t decided where to start with it all.’

‘Well, I can help you with that. But I mean about the museum trip.’

‘Oh.’ His hands moved closer to hers on the table, pinkie fingers brushing barely enough to feel it. But she did, because it was him, and for whatever reason, her body had decided it liked him even when her brain didn’t. Goosebumps skittered down her arms, and she found herself wishing it would just be the two of them again, throwing together in the darkness. ‘Well, I’m not weird about that either.’

‘Okay.’ Juniper shrugged, though she still wasn’t convinced. She plucked up a piece of gold leaf that she hadn’t noticed before, thinking it would make a lovely effect on the tree’s bark.

‘Need me to inspire you again?’ She nudged him lightly.

Strangely, his grin didn’t trigger her usual annoyance. Instead, she noticed how pretty the shape of his lips were when they weren’t pursed, and how his bottom front teeth faced away from each other just slightly. ‘I’ll never say no to that.’

‘It can be arranged.’ She gathered a few of the glaze powders, including a copper that she imagined would fire to make the same green as his eyes. ‘This would be a nice colour mix for your palette. Just make sure to look at the labels instead of the colours, because they change when they’re fired. You just do what Tilly’s doing: mix and sieve.’

‘Okay. Thank you.’ He seemed taken aback by the advice. Because he was surprised she knew things, or surprised she was being nice?

Not daring to decide, she made to head back to her desk, but he took stopped her with a light hand on hers. ‘I sort of hoped it would just be the two of us on Sunday,’ he admitted, playing with the hem on her bell-sleeved jumper.

‘Oh? Why?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m selfish and want you all to myself.’

Her mouth turned dry at that. When she looked up at him, she expected his usual taunting expression or sultry smoulder, but instead, his forehead was still creased – as though having company genuinely bothered him.

She tried to lighten the mood. ‘You don’t think you’ve had more than enough of me for one week?’

He licked his lips, gaze fixed on hers. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, sweetheart.’

Sweetheart. He wasn’t supposed to call her that, not here, and yet her knees weakened at the sound of it in his husky throat.

Still, it didn’t sit right. With the class moving around them, she stepped back. She’d been in relationships before where she’d had to sacrifice every minute of the day for the other person,and there was no way Aiden could expect any more from her than she was already giving. She occupied her brain enough as it was. ‘I don’t do possessiveness, Whittaker.’

‘It isn’t about possessiveness.’ Concern tugged at his words, and a sincerity that she was still getting used to hearing from anyone, let alone him. She couldn’t remember him being so honest, so genuine, in high school. What if she’d remembered him wrong? Mashed the memories of his cat-calling mates with him?

It didn’t matter. She remembered the other thing perfectly. Remembered how it had felt to walk out of Elmington already knowing the rejection letter was on its way.

‘I just think you let me closer to you when no one else is around,’ Aiden continued. He checked nobody was looking, then tugged her closer, her hip knocking against his. ‘I’ve noticed that guard of yours doesn’t only come up for me, y’know.’

That wasn’t true.Wasit?

Maybe. She was still learning to unmask, and whenever her true self slipped out, all bluntness and wit, not everybody seemed to like it. With Tilly, it was different, but in a room full of people, there was a constant pressure sitting just under her skin. Like she was always waiting to feel as small as she had in high school, as small as her parents sometimes made her feel. It didn’t stop her from saying the wrong things, but it did leave her protecting herself with dry wit and ‘cheek’, as her mother would call it.

She’d enjoyed being vulnerable with him a few nights ago, but now, she only felt raw. She took a step back, wondering if maybe she’d made a mistake with this.Just sex didn’t ever really exist, did it? The lines between physical and emotional intimacy always crossed, and if she did have a guard up, he seemed to have invaded it easier than she would have liked.

‘You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,’ she said finally, tersely.

He weighed her up for a moment, none of his usual amusement evident. ‘I thought I’d made it obvious, Juni. I always want to come with you.’

She didn’t know whether he was trying to be funny or not, his tone wispy and unsure.

‘For the project,’ she said, less of a question than a demand.

He nodded slowly. ‘Of course. What else?’

There. She could relax.

Only she didn’t, not even when she got back to her stool and began to paint again.

Strange how one person could make her feel both safe yet in a war zone.