Page 52 of Try Me
If I really needed to focus, the U’s library was where I went. Less temptation for me to attempt studying in bed and inevitably pass out in two seconds flat, less noise from my roommates, and after doing part of my work-study there for a few semesters, I knew all the best spots. I saluted Dave, who was manning the main desk, and headed up the stairs to the second floor. It was open to the first floor in the middle and had rows of shelves and clusters of long study tables with lamps at intervals. A little less privacy than the study carrels on the other floors, but I liked the old-world feel of it, like I was in some fancy library overseas rather than a state college.
Before everything had gone down with my dad, I’d secretly hoped I could do a semester abroad. Oxford, maybe. A Rhodes scholar I was not, but I was good at applying myself when I really wanted something. Turned out there were certain obstacles only money could surmount.
I walked the perimeter of the balcony, gazing down at the tops of heads where people had gathered in study groups. For a Wednesday afternoon, the library was pretty sedate, and eventually I made my way to the less populated tables at the far-east corner, where I set up shop. I had a history paper to think about, and I also wanted to read some of the case studies Lena had given me.We’ll call them extra credit, she’d said with a wink.
I eyeballed the loner sitting at the table catty-corner to the one I’d chosen and gave him a brief smile when he caught me looking. I’d just started going over the term paper requirements when a shadow fell across my notebook.
“Do you always scowl at school supplies?”
“Fuck off.” It’d become a second nature response to Mark’s presence by now. Actually, it might’ve sounded a little…fond. I’d need to work on that.
He’d texted me earlier about our project, and I’d mentioned coming to the library, but I hadn’t expected him to show up, much less find me. I couldn’t decide if I was annoyed or amused.
My dick didn’t have the same quandary at all, immediately stirring with interest.
“Hey, I recognize that. Carroll’s class, right?” Mark angled the stapled paper in his direction. “Same topic and everything. Huh. Guess she doesn’t ease up for the summer courses. How’re you doing in it? It was tough.”
“Think I’m on track for a B-plus if I do well enough on this next exam.” I thumped the packet of study questions I’d assembled. “What’d you get in it?”
Mark did a piss-poor job of hiding a smirk, although it seemed somehow…amicable rather than truly condescending, which threw me. “Better than a B-plus.”
Nope, I’d been wrong. Condescending it was.
“You know what?” I snapped my fingers, then lowered my voice when the guy across the way glared at me. “We should have an actual pissing contest. Right here. Right now. Whip it out.”
Mark shook his head, chuckling softly for the sarcasm. “Not my kink.” He perched one asscheek on the edge of the table, the purple track shorts he was wearing hiking up his muscular thighs. Were they that short on purpose? Had I missed the birth of a new trend? I blinked away from the overwhelming display of skin and tuned in to what he was saying. “So for the tests, Carroll’s got a pattern. She pulls most of the questions from just after the beginning of the readings. Like, not the first section, but maybe the second. And she’ll do the same thing right after the middle, and then right before the end. The extra credit questions will almost always come from the footnotes, so make sure you read those. That’s how I got that shiny A-plus. And during the summers, those ‘pop’ quizzes usually come every five days. Or so I’ve heard.” He made a show of buffing his nails against the collar of his tee. Irritating as fuck. Also, a little sexy.
And surprisingly helpful. “The advantages of being in the boys’ club.”
“And now I’m sharing that intel with you.”
“Because you’re so generous that way.”
“You wanna keep going like this?”
“We could, but I do actually need to get some work done. Are you going to sit or what?” He was still fucking lurking over me, which he was probably enjoying. I kicked out a chair across the table.
“I can’t sit here. You’ll distract me.”
I blinked in confusion. “Distract you how? I won’t talk. I’m studying, dumbass.”
He shrugged. “You’re distracting.”
“Fine. Go away.”
Mark walked to the long table across from mine and sat down with his back to me. I focused on my textbook, then glanced up again when I caught movement to see him shoving his books and computer across the table. Then he got up and followed them around to a chair on the other side. Now he faced me.
Fucking weirdo. I pulled out my phone.
Chet:The fuck was wrong with your chair?
Mark:Didn’t like you at my back.
Chet:Afraid I’m gonna launch a surprise attack on you?
Mark:I just don’t like people behind me like that.
Our gazes caught as we both looked up, and I circled my index finger around my temple.