Page 82 of Lessons in Chemistry

He peeks at me through his fingers. “You’re overestimating my ability to think on my feet.”

“Nah. You’re a genius. You’ve got this.”

Emory’s gaze becomes vacant. A vertical slash appears between his brows, and his lips pucker and blanch. His concentration face is gorgeous, but it’s more pronounced now than during our tutoring sessions. He must be thinking hard. Is he going to catch me out or make it easy for me so I can win a kiss?

“I can’t skateboard. I’ve broken a bone, and I used to want to work for NASA.”

I press my lips together to repress a smile. He might not have made it intentionally easy for me to guess the lie, but thanks to Casey, I know it.

“You’ve never broken a bone.”

“That’s right.” He leans forwards and taps his lips.

I tickle his nape with my fingers as I claim my reward. “Why don’t you want to work for NASA anymore?”

“My dreams changed when I saw how unwell Gran’s medication was making her.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Potentially helping people is more important than walking among the stars.”

I cup his jaw. “You are amazing. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.”

He blushes. “Your turn.”

“I like cooking, love pharmacology, and I have brown hair.”

Emory folds his arms. “You’re cheating.”

“How is that cheating?”

“Because there’s nothing for me to guess.”

“Which means you’ll get it right and have to kiss me. Are you going to complain about my strategy?”

His lips twitch, and then he sighs and rolls his eyes. “No.”

We grip each other’s shoulders and hips as we make out for a minute or two. Emory’s glasses get knocked while we’re kissing, so I straighten them for him when we pull apart. His lips are glossy with saliva, which is sexy.

“I was born in Lancaster, Casey is my best friend, and I study philosophy,” he says.

“Now who’s cheating?”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

I pull him onto my lap and kiss him fiercely. He runs his fingers through my hair while I cradle the small of his back.

“Should we take this game more seriously?” he asks.

“Maybe, or we could forget about it and make out more.” I nuzzle his nose.

“One more go each? But this time, I want to find out something about you that I don’t already know.”

“Right back at you, cute nerd.”

He slips off my lap onto the sofa. “It’s your turn.”