“I had a few thoughts,” I say, trying to take this conversation from full of lust to something lighter.
“Yeah?” Harry searches my face.
“I liked hearing your voice,” I admit, playing with his fingers.
I look up at him through my lashes, feeling way more girlie than usual.
I’m not sure if it’s Harry’s proximity to me or him calling me beautiful, but something in the air between us has me nervous.
Harry bites his lip, his blue eyes focusing in on me. “Don’t worry. You can hear my voice in bed anytime you like,” he whispers.
“Is that so?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
He loosely laces his fingers through mine, rubbing his thumb across my palm. “Definitely, babe. I’m excited for our date tomorrow.”
“What are you most excited for?” I ask, wondering if he’ll give me a hint of what we might be doing.
Harry purses his lips, his eyes shifting up to the side like he’s thinking.
When he connects his gaze back with mine, a smirk forms on his lips. “The date will be bloody brilliant—since I’m planning it, of course.”
“Of course,” I agree.
“But I will be most excited for dessert. You see,” he says, leaning in closer, “this girl told me yesterday that she couldn’t stop thinking about putting chocolate and whipped cream all over my body. She’s a naughty one, to say the least. And at first, I wasn’t sure about the idea. I mean, sprinkles might be delicious, but they could end up in places sprinkles should never go.”
I laugh, knowing he’s just getting on a roll with his story.
“Anyway, it gave me this idea that, after our date, I might have to take her back to my place and indulge her. I’m thinking something along the lines of a chocolate-covered surprise or maybe date-night delight.”
Harry’s whole face is glowing. From the way he talks, I can never tell if he’s serious or teasing, but I think he usually falls somewhere in between. He’s always pushing boundaries to see if they’ll give, and even if they don’t, he seems content either way.
I smile back at him. “Date-night delight. I like the sound of that.”
“I can’t wait for our date tomorrow night,” he replies, seriously this time.
Harry’s grin slips away, and he looks at me almost shyly, pulling my hand up to his lips and kissing my knuckles.
The sensation makes my stomach flutter.
“See you at lunch,” he says before dropping my hand and walking off to class.
My lips ache, wanting to burst into another smile, but one glance at the clock in the hallway makes me realize I’m about to be late for Latin.
Burst your bubble.
Latin
The bell goes off when I sit down in class, feeling like I’m floating on a cloud on a warm summer day.
Harry was the perfect mixture of sweet and sexy in the hallway.
He was even sweeter than normal.
He didn’t treat me like one of the guys.
Or flirt with me just because it was fun.
He treated me like I was his.
Like I was special to him.
And it felt really good.
“You look happy,” Mohammad comments, sitting down next to me, studying my face.
“I am happy,” I sigh, putting my chin into my palm, resting my elbow on my desk. Because I’m prepared for this test. Because things are wonderful with Harry. I still feel like my whole body is tingling from our talk.
“Right …” Mohammad replies.
I glance over at him, and he’s looking back at me with suspicion.
“What?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him. “Can’t I be happy?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble,” he says, throwing his hands into the air, “but you have to tell me what happened. How did Noah take the news?”
“Well,” I drawl out while trying to come up with something to say.
Mohammad nods at me, obviously eager to hear my answer.
“Um, I didn’t exactly tell him.”
Mohammad’s facial expression changes from looking at me in suspicion to practically outraged.
“Yet,” I quickly add. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Mallory,” he says, his jaw closed and his teeth tight. He’s wearing a what the fuck, Mallory look on his face, but he doesn’t respond further.
“So, here’s the thing, Mohammad. There were, um, a few more moments with Noah yesterday,” I say, trying to make it sound way less intense than it actually was. “However, later, he asked me to go with him to get sushi, and it didn’t sound casual. So, basically, I asked him point-blank if he was asking me on a date because I figured that should answer all of our questions. And he laughed in my face, Mohammad. Everything’s fine.”
“Regardless, you have to tell him. It doesn’t matter if he wants to date you or not. You told me you would deal with this.”
“I know,” I plead with him, leaning in closer. “And I will. I promise I will today. I guess I just chickened out yesterday, especially after how cold he was about the date thing. I mean, if he liked me one single ounce, he wouldn’t have laughed at the idea.”
“Do you sense the circle we’re going in?” he asks, shaking his head, looking like he almost feels sorry for me.
I think about it for a moment. “You’re right. The point is, it doesn’t matter what his answer was. I will tell him today, so we can all move on with our lives.”
I push myself back into my chair, trying to get comfortable.
“Thank you.” Mohammad lets out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t like conflict."
“I know,” he says. “But I don’t want this to grow into an actual conflict.”
“I understand. I don’t either,” I agree.
He doesn’t say anything further before we start our test, and it makes my stomach twist into knots. I don’t want him mad at me. I just want my regular Mohammad back. The one who I can tell about my date with Harry and give an update on how things went with Naomi at the salon. I want to know when his parents will be back and when I can meet them. But I can’t ask him any of that or even expect a happy response until I get this thing with Noah figured out.
Because Mohammad loves gossip, and he didn’t ask me a single question. He hasn’t looked over at me with a smile on his face.
He keeps his head down, focusing on the test.
So, I do the same.
I try to push everything out of my mind, so I can remember what I studied last night.
As I move from one question to the next, my mind shifts through the notecards I looked over for hours. When I get to the last question, I can’t believe it. Because I think I did good. Like, really good.
I turn in my test and then have to sit back down in my seat, waiting for the bell to ring.
“I’m going to find Noah now,” I say to Mohammad, quickly getting up when class is over.
Mohammad doesn’t smile, but when I’m practically out the door, he calls out, “Good luck.”
They sound so awkward.
Lunch
I remember that Noah has Chemistry before lunch. I’m not sure what room it’s in, so I decide it’s best to go to his locker, hoping that I can intercept him there. My stomach is doing somersaults while I wait.