Page 34 of Scars of Anatomy

“Not since middle school,” I admit, inwardly cringing at how awful it must sound. “But I’ve talked to her on the phone a handful of times since.”

“Is she in Florida?”

“Yeah.”

A silence falls over us and I can tell she’s in her head about the subject, and the longer we stand here I feel myself start to brood. She doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve my shitty mood after another family issue. Again.

“Hey, let’s forget about this, yeah?” I ask, desperate to change the topic and the mood. “Let’s just go back to my room and study.”

She nods, but I can tell she’s still distant, thinking.

Hand still in mine, I lead her across campus to the dorm. When we walk through the doors, Brennen instantly looks up from his phone behind the front desk, his feet kicked up as he leans back in the desk chair.

“Miller!” he greets me, his eyes landing on Olivia’s hand in mine before lifting to her face. “McCausland!” He beams. “What are you two up to?” he asks, sitting up straight in his chair.

“Just going to go study, man,” I say, hoping he doesn’t keep us long.

“Study? In your room?” he asks, raising a curious brow because he knows I don’t bring girls to my room.

“Yep, it is getting close to finals,” I say, straining to keep it casual, wishing he didn’t have to sound like that to tip Olivia off.

A slow, seemingly knowing grin spreads across his face. “Ah. Well, you two kids have fun,” he drawls suggestively.

I mentally face palm, dragging Olivia past Brennen and down the hall to my room.

Reluctantly letting go of Olivia’s hand, I grab my keys from my pocket and unlock the door. I hold it open and let her step in first.

She steps through the door and heads straight for my desk. Shrugging off her backpack and her coat, she sets her bag on the floor and hangs her coat on the back of the desk chair. She pulls out all of her study materials, laying them neatly on the desktop before taking a seat in my desk chair.

A heavy, uncomfortable feeling rests on my shoulders but I ignore it, shaking the feeling off with my backpack and coat. Again, she doesn’t deserve my shitty mood. She already had to put up with me the last time, and she’s taking time out of her busy week to study with me.

I toss my backpack and coat at the foot of my bed, and hop onto the firm mattress, which lets out a loud whine under my weight. Shimmying up to the headboard, I lean my back against it, lacing my fingers behind my head.

Olivia looks at me skeptically, and I can’t help but grin. “Come sit up here, Finch,” I instruct, patting the space in front of me.

“Do you really think that’s the best place to study?”

“Yes.”

She gives me a doubtful look.

I lean over and snatch her binder full of notes, holding it hostage to bait her.

“Hey!”

She stands, trying to grab her binder back, but I hold it tightly.

“Bronx!” She tries to sound stern, but she laughs. “Give it back!”

“Uh-uh.” I grin.

She places her knee on my mattress to gain leverage, trying to reach above my head, but she can’t. Lunging forward, trying to snatch the binder back, she manages to grab the corner of it but loses her balance and falls forward on top of me, her face inches from mine.

We both freeze, eyes locking.

She slowly pulls away, sitting back on her knees.

“Looks like it worked,” I say, breaking the silence. “Guess we’re studying here.” I grin victoriously.

She blinks slowly, clearing her head before glaring at me. She snatches her binder back, huffing playfully before sitting back and crossing her legs, sitting in front of me. “And what did I say about funny business?” she mutters under her breath sarcastically.

Opening her binder and setting it in her lap, she flips through her notes, deciding where to start.

Feeling playful, I grab her crisscrossed calves and pull her closer until our knees knock together.

She lets out a little shriek, gasping. “Bronx,” she says, a hint of warning in her tone.

“There. Better.” I smile.

She gives me a look before glancing back down at her notes. “Okay, so I was thinking . . .” She trails off, tabbing off pages. “We can go over these sections today for lab. I can list off a few bones and you can tell me where they’re generally located.”

She looks up at me through her lashes for confirmation.

“Sure. Sounds good.” I lace my hands back together behind my head, getting comfortable.

We study for about ten minutes, her listing off bones and me pointing them out on my own body. Until I get bored.

Suddenly, a brilliant but semi-dangerous idea comes to my head.

“Acromion,” Olivia says.

Feeling bold, I lean forward, pressing my lips to the end of her shoulder.

She softly gasps, eyes wide. “Bronx, what are you doing?” she asks, a slight waver in her voice.

I shrug, confident. “I was right, wasn’t I?” I ask innocently.

“Yes,” she sputters adorably, clearly flustered.

I watch her throat work on a swallow as she fidgets, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Patella,” she says, refusing to look up from her notes.

I grin, leaning forward to place a kiss to her bent-up jean-clad knee.

“Lunate,” she squeaks.

Gently grabbing her hand, I pull it toward me to place a delicate kiss to the top of her wrist.

“Humerus.” Her voice turns softer, breathier.

I kiss her upper arm.

“Clavicle.”

I kiss her sweater-covered collarbone.

“Sternocleidomastoid.”

I pause, a grin forming on my face. Leaning forward, I let my lips brush against the side of her neck. “That’s not even a bone, Finch,” I rasp against her skin, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there anyway.

She takes in a sharp breath, her hand landing on my knee.

“Jaw.”

I skim my lips upward, lightly nipping at her jawbone, seeing where she’s going with this.

“Auricular lobe.”

Moving my lips higher, I lightly flick my tongue over the skin just under her ear before kissing her earlobe.

She shudders, her voice coming out shaky. “Buccal.”

Slowly, torturously, I skim my lips to her soft cheek, placing a soft kiss there. “Where next, Finch?”

She pulls back an inch, those brown eyes locking on mine, hazed over. Her eyes drift down to my lips for a brief moment, then she looks at me with uncertainty and fascination.

“Say it, Finch,” I urge her softly, desperately.

I lean in until the tips of our noses are touching, our lips inches apart. I lean in farther, lingering until our lips almost brush against each other, teasing.

“Say it,” I whisper, wanting her to be the one to willingly seal the gap between us.

She takes in a jagged breath, and instead of using her words, she tilts her head to the side and leans in to press her unbelievably soft lips to mine.

That’s it. I’m done for. Every inch of me feels like I’m on fire.

I take her face in my hands, deepening the kiss, being mindful to be gentle with her.

But, damn, is it hard not to fall all in.

To kiss the absolute sense out of her. Devour her.

But instead I take it slow, savoring the feeling of her lips on mine.

Because I’ll be damned if I scare her off too quickly.

This isn’t like any other kiss I’ve had before, and Olivia is definitely not like any other girl I’ve kissed before.

Before I get too carried away, I slow the pace, pecking her lips before pulling away, smiling.

Opening my eyes, I watch her beautiful ones flutter open, her lips twitching up as her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink.

“Finally,” I sigh, resting my forehead against hers.