Page 55 of The Ruthless Note

I fold my arms over my chest and kick the desk next to mine in a silent instruction to sit there.

Cadence primly ignores my command and takes a seat in the front row.

Stubborn as hell. As always.

“My clothes magically turned up in my locker when I came back to school,” I yell at her back. “Kind of late to have a change of heart.”

“Maybe whoever did it got scarred by the sight of you and never wanted to see you naked again,” she answers brusquely.

I smirk. “Or maybe they liked what they saw.”

She snorts as if that’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. But I saw her checking me out in the hallway today. She’s attracted to me, probably just as much as she hates me.

I get out of my chair, walk to the front of the room and lean against the teacher’s desk. Brahms pretends not to notice. Studiously focusing on her textbook, she turns a page.

My eyes devour her face—fragile cheekbones, lips as ripe as strawberries, long, delicate limbs. I cross my arms over my chest. “Is that why you can only perform in disguise? Because you’re afraid of the piano?”

“I’m not afraid of the piano,” she bites out.

“That’s not how it looked this morning.”

“This morning never happened.” She whips her head up. “Isn’t that what you meant when you said what you said?”

I flinch.

She glances down again, angrily yanking her textbook to a new page.

My phone rings.

It’s Finn. “Enjoying detention?”

I glance at Cadence. “The company could be better.”

She stiffens.

“I’m calling to let you know that the guys at the shop said they could probably do a deep clean of the truck. Get it back to shape. I’ll swing by after school to pick you up so you can check it out.”

“Thanks.”

“And Dutch.”

“What?”

“Don’t screw this up,” Finn warns.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say lightly.

“Yeah, you don’t.” He hangs up.

I pocket my phone and tap my fingers on the desk.

Cadence shoots me an annoyed glance. “Would you stop that? It’s distracting.”

“Come on, Brahms. You’re not just, alittleexcited to be alone with me?”

“Not even a little.”

I grab her chair, yank it forward, and lock my feet around it.