“Oh, but you do?” He began hopping around the room, exaggeratedly yelling, “Ow!”
I crossed my arms over my chest and bit my lips, trying to stifle a laugh. He was making fun of me, but he looked ridiculous while doing it. There was no way I could be mad at that. Some minutes later, he stopped and tossed me a heart-stopping smile. Or at least my heart thought it was.
“I’ll help you with math—as long as you promise not to shoplift any more art supplies.”
His smile faded as he glanced down at his shoes, embarrassed.
“Thanks for the gift, and don’t you dare think about taking it back. But no more, okay?”
“Yeah. Cool,” he told the ground.
“All right, Dummy. Where should we start? Please tell me I don’t have to go all the way back to two-plus-two,” I joked, bumping him with my shoulder as I walked past.
“Soooo funny,” he teased but followed me to sit on the blanket.
Two hours later, with three days’ worth of math homework completed, he crawled back out of that window. Just before he disappeared, he called out, “See you tomorrow, Doodle.”
I didn’t know it then, but he had never been more right. After that, there weren’t many tomorrows that I didn’t see Till Page.
Three years later . . .
“YOU WANNA MAYBE GO SEE a movie tonight?” he asked.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek to suppress my schoolgirl squeal. “Yeah. That sounds cool,” I said nonchalantly before quickly turning to face my locker. He was standing the good kind of too close and I needed an escape. The inside of my dark locker seemed like the most obvious of choices.
I leaned my head inside, pretending to look for a book, and allowed the huge grin to spread across my face. The very idea of telling Crystal about our date gave me almost as much as excitement as the date itself. She was going to have a stroke when I told her that he’d finally asked me out. It had taken long enough—that’s for sure. I thought the entire school knew he was interested in me, but I wasn’t exactly one the cool kids. But then again, neither was he. Not many of the jocks were enrolled in every possible art class, including the ones the school offered after hours. He was different, and I liked that. A lot.
“You okay, Eliza?”
I felt his hand on my back, and I literally squeaked. Probably not my subtlest move, but that squeak had suppressed a breathy sigh. I might have only been sixteen, but I knew that “breathy” never helped your case when trying to play it cool.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I twirled to face him, and his hand found my hip. Like the proverbial wheel, I squeaked again.
Suddenly, a pair of unfamiliar, hazel eyes caught my attention. Oh, I knew every single curve on his ridiculously attractive face. I’d drawn each one of them more times than I cared to admit. But inside this building, I didn’t know those eyes from the man on the moon.
The smile fell from my face as he approached.
“Bennett, you need to get to the gym. Coach is looking for you,” Till said when he stopped in front of us.
I had gotten used to his cold avoidance over the years. He spent hours every night at my side in our condemned apartment, but never once had he acknowledged me at school. It had pissed me off at first. Yeah, okay. It still pissed me off.
“What? Why?” Daniel Bennett removed his hand from my hip.
Instead of another squeak, a growl pointedly aimed at Till rumbled in my throat.
“I wasn’t feeling confident about some of the plays. So we’re gonna watch last week’s videos again.” The side of his lip curled into a half smile.
Now that I recognized. He was up to no good.
“Seriously? I’ve got plans tonight,” Daniel groaned.
“Sorry, bro. Coach’s orders.” Till shrugged and tried to wiggle his hands into the pockets of his tattered jeans.
He’d recently found the weights, so his pants were quickly becoming too small to fit his large frame, but he wore them as if that were the sole purpose. Hell, knowing Till, maybe it was.
“All night?” Bennett clarified, tilting his head toward me.
Till sucked in a breath, and I knew he was enjoying it. “So it seems.”
I cocked my head to the side, not sure what to make of his sudden appearance, but if he noticed my scrutinizing eyes, he never acknowledged it.
“Shit,” Bennett mumbled, turning back to face me. “You think we could do dinner after the game tomorrow instead? Coach loves his videos, so this is gonna take forever.”
I let out a disappointed sigh. “I can’t. I have to work tomorrow night. The Smokehouse bustles at least twelve customers on a Friday night. How would they ever manage to get them all seated without me?” I replied sarcastically.
He groaned again. “Next weekend then?”
“Yeah. I can do that.” I flashed him a sweet smile.
“Okay. Next weekend. Dinner and a movie,” he confirmed before backing away.
“Watch out!” I laughed as he plowed over one of the freshmen.