Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
She glances down at what she wrote. “Oh, you’re right. Seems like uneven distribution. Maybe there was inconsistent staining?”
“Or maybe you’re distracted and writing down the wrong results. You keep writing down red whenever I say green.”
“No I’m not.”
I lean over and take the pencil out of her hand. “You’re temporarily benched. Now tell me what’s wrong so we can talk it out and then go back to our work.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
A female voice interrupts my grilling. “Will. Hey.”
I swivel on my chair to greet my former lab partner. “Hey, Lourdes.”
“I just wanted to make sure you got the, um, thing I sent you.” Her gaze darts toward Charlotte, but my new partner isn’t paying attention.
Charlotte has her eye glued to the microscope now. Yeah, something is definitely up with her today.
“I mean, the chapter.” Lourdes is pretty much whispering now. “You didn’t email back.”
“I’m still reading it,” I assure her. “I should be done tonight.”
She tucks her chin-length hair behind her ears and gives me a smile of gratitude. “Thanks. I really, really appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Lourdes flounces back to George, and I wait until she’s out of earshot before turning to grin at Charlotte. My humor fades when I notice her stiff posture. And she’s avoiding my gaze.
“Okay, seriously, what’s bothering you?” I press. “Because the Charlotte I’ve been working with this month would’ve been all over that Lourdes conversation demanding to read the latest fanfic chapter. Are you having trouble in your other classes? Fighting with your friends?”
“My friends all love me.”
A laugh slips out. “Okay. Family problems?”
“No. Let’s get back to work.”
“No. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t have to tell you what’s wrong.”
I pounce. “So there is something wrong.”
She finally allows her gaze to meet mine. Then proceeds to stare at me for so long, I shift in my chair. I can’t look away, though. Her eyes are magnetic. A deep brown, like melted dark chocolate. And her skin looks so soft to the touch. I wonder if her hair is soft too. She always wears it in a bun when we’re in the lab, secured by a white hairpin, with long black wisps framing her face. My gaze travels to her mouth. She has great lips. Pale pink and pouty.
“You’re staring,” she accuses.
“You were staring first.” I grin at her. “I thought that meant it was cool for me to do it too.” When she starts to turn toward the microscope, I reach out and touch her arm. My voice becomes gruff. “Hey. Did I do something to piss you off or to annoy you? Because I was kind of digging this partnership, but if you want to switch lab partners—”
“No,” Charlotte interjects, eyes widening. “I don’t want to switch. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
She falls silent again, glancing toward our TA’s workstation. Monica has her head buried in the stack of papers she’s been grading all afternoon.
Charlotte leans over her chair and slips her hand into the navy-blue canvas bag at her feet. She emerges with her phone, one dainty finger touching the screen. Finally, she slides the phone across the table, and I find myself looking at a picture of myself and Beckett, taken at a pool party at Shane’s place this summer.
“I don’t get it. I’m friends with Beckett? That’s the problem?” I smother a groan. “Did he say something to you? He’s a huge flirt, but I swear he’s harmless.”
She taps the screen with a polished fingernail. “How did I get this picture, Will?”
My brow furrows. What the hell is she—
Oh shit.
Understanding strikes like a bolt of lightning.
“Yeah,” Charlotte says, noting my expression.
She makes the picture disappear, leaving only the chat thread where it came from. The profile name at the top is impossible to miss.
LARS & B
Charlotte locks her gaze on mine again. “I’m Charlie,” she says, sounding so miserable I almost laugh.
My shock, though, eclipses the humor.
This must be a joke. Charlie, the sexy free spirit who fantasizes about getting drilled by two guys on the hood of a car—that’s Charlotte Kingston, the girl I’ve been sitting next to in the lab? The girl in pleated sorority-girl skirts and matching sweaters, whose makeup is never smudged and who never has a single hair out of place?
I’m stunned speechless. And while I sit there trying to make sense of this, she snatches the phone back and closes the chat.
Closes it…but doesn’t delete it.
I find that interesting.
“Will…” She bites her lip. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Please.”
“Tell them what? That you were trying to arrange a threesome?”
“I wasn’t trying—” She lowers her voice when we draw the attention of a few other classmates. “You were the one trying to arrange it.”
“You were into it.” I shake my head in amusement. “Well, shit. This is great.”
“This is not great,” she hisses. “It’s mortifying.”
“Or…” I slant my head at her. “Was it meant to be?”