Page 44 of The Play Maker

I look up, catching that cocky grin spreading across his face. “You already tried bribing me,” I say, flipping to the next page. “With candy,andthat mirror selfie from the gym.”

His smile deepens. “Didn’t hear any complaints about the abs.”

I shoot him a flat look. “That’s because I was too busy praying for temporary blindness.”

Which is a lie. Kind of.

I mean, the flexing was ridiculous and totally uncalled for.

But also… the guy has perfectly sculpted abs. Which I’m only aware of because he insists on parading them around at every possible opportunity.

Austin clutches his chest. “Freckles, you wound me.”

He calls me that all the time now. Freckles. I don’t even have that many—just a faint dusting across my nose, the kind you can only see when the sun hits just right. But he latched onto them weeks ago and hasn’t let go since.

I reach into my bag and grab my Chapstick, twisting the cap off with one hand and smoothing it across my lips, more out of habit than anything else.

“Cherry?”

My eyes widen when I look up at him. “What?”

He tilts his chin toward the cherry Chapstick on the table. “Your Chapstick.”

“Oh.” My shoulders drop. “Yeah.”

There’s a pause, then his chair creaks as he leans forward with a smirk on his lips. “I knew you’d taste sweet.”

That makes me freeze for half a second. I glance up slowly, narrowing my eyes. I jab my pen toward the worksheet. “Three questions left. Focus.”

He groans and slumps lower in his chair. “Three? That’s, like… two too many.”

“Poor baby,” I mutter, placing my Chapstick back into my bag. “Do you want a gold star?”

Austin doesn’t answer right away. When I glance up, he’s not even looking at the worksheet. He’s squinting at my bag, which is half-slouched against the leg of the table.

“I want to know what the frog’s about.”

I blink. “What?”

He points. “The little guy. With the crown.”

I follow his gaze. It takes me a second to realize he means the enamel pin clipped to the front pocket—a tiny green frog with googly eyes and a lopsided gold crown. I’ve had it forever. Didn’t think anyone noticed it, let alonehim.

“I’ve seen it every time we study,” he adds. “I need answers.”

I glance at the frog. He stares back, vaguely unbothered.

“It’s just a pin.”

Austin raises an eyebrow. “That’s your whole explanation?”

“I like frogs.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

He tilts his head, unconvinced. “You’ve got the same guy on your laptop too, don’t you?”