Chapter 21: CHAPTER 21

Mr. Griffin's voice cut through the tension as he began taking attendance.

"Here," I answered.

Never have I ever been so grateful for his poor eyesight, otherwise I'd be mortified to have a teacher see me in this position. I tried to squirm free, but Cross dug his heel to the floor and shifted the chair forward, effectively using the table as an additional barricade.

"I’ll get another chair," I whispered, careful to not raise my voice in the silenced air of Mr. Griffn's call.

"They're too far. Besides," his hand tightened over my outer thigh. With soft ease he hoisted me closer, "I like where you are."

Heat flared beneath my skin, coloring my cheeks and eliciting from him a soft laugh. I turned away and awkwardly stared at the supplies. He mentioned before he enjoyed making me nervous; if that was his goal he was doing a good job.

Sitting over him like this... it was reminiscent of the party. Back then, I'd laid my head on his chest and enjoyed our closeness. But there was no alcohol to tether this moment. We were wide awake.

"Alright, class, you may begin your activity," Mr. Griffin announced.

Cross didn't move. His gaze remained fixed on me in a way that made it seem the only activity he wanted to work on was me. I smoothed the fabric of my dress once more. It had ridden up when he hauled me over him. I could feel the thick denim of his jeans beneath my skin, the same skin he now traced in slow, idle circles.

"What did you need to say?" I managed, hoping we could get this over with so my heart would stop that ridiculous thuddering.

"You're not going to look at me?"

I tossed my head back and feasted him with an irritated expression. But the smirk I expected wasn't there. Instead, what met me was the smallest pout, ever angelic and disarmingly innocent. The sarcastic remark I had died on my lips.

He exhaled softly. "I'm sorry for ruining your makeup this morning."

An apology. The last thing I expected. It took me a moment to digest, which he seemed to take for dissatisfaction, so added, "...and for ruining it yesterday too."

I sighed. He did look remorseful. And adorably handsome. "Fine. But don't do it again," I said firmly. "There's also something else you should apologize

for."

His brows furrowed in thought. After a few beats of silence, he blinked at me, clueless.

He really had no idea.

I closed my eyes. Patience. Boys needed training. This was an opportunity to teach him self-awareness.

"You should also apologize for running off Jacob yesterday. You were rude to interrupt us like that." Cross's features hardened. "I'm not apologizing for that,"

"And why not?!"

"Because I don't want him near you."

"You still haven't given me a good reason!"

"Don't you remember? Because I said so, that's all the reason you need," he dismissed. His entire demeanor was wholly unsympathetic, as if Jacob was the one in the wrong for approaching in the first place.

"That's not a valid reason." Then, in a surge of defiance, "David said Jacob is a good guy, so whether you like it or not I'm talking to him."

Cross scoffed. "You're not. But fine, if you insist on trying make sure you take things slow. You need to talk to him for at least a year before considering it seriously."

"A year?!" I cried. That was even more absurd! "We'll have graduated by then."

"Exactly. Why waste your time?" Cross reasoned, giving me completely unreasonable requirements.

"You're...doing too much," I said, repeating the words I heard David tell him yesterday.

It was the only way I could describe this madness. If I were any other girl, she would take it out of context.

"Too much?" He laughed. Softly at first, before it rose to that deep timbre that made my knees weak. His forehead rested on my cardigan, the soft strands of his hair ticking my neck.

"Too much..." he repeated. After a few breaths he pulled back, a daring smirk in place. If it were even possible his arms crushed me further into his chest.

"You have no idea how much I'm actually capable of" A shiver rolled down my spine. What does he mean by that? Come to think of it…

"Um, e-ever since the dare at the party you've been more.." I bit my lower lip, struggling to find the word.

Affectionate wasn't it.

He wasn't romantic.

And though it felt possessive, that wasn't the right word either. didn't take ownership of girls since he much preferred to rent them. It was more so…

"Touchy feely," I managed to say.

If we're having this talk we might as well address all the inconsistencies as of late that are slowly driving me insane.

"What of it?" he asked, seeming to have no problem with it at all, and worse, not find anything wrong given our platonic relationship.

"Look, just stop flirting and using me as a shield for girls who like you."

His eyes fell to my lips. "Keeping them back was a nice benefit, but that's not why I did those things."

"Then why?" I asked, exasperated.

Cross remained carefully silent. His gaze lowered to my legs draped over him. His fingers resumed their soft circling, at times pausing to caress the surface with quiet intent. He didn't need to answer. I already had a theory.

Despite my erratic heart, my words were calm.

"Look, I'm your friend but you can't use me to get your...urges out. You've got more than enough girls offering it up to you so just..stop."

Cross balked at my accusation. "You think I'm all over you because I'm horny?"

His head tipped back as rich laughter poured out of him, the movement drawing attention to the strong line of his throat, before he looked at me again, still grinning.

"I can control my dick, Clara."

My blush deepened. The embarrassment of it all drove me to smack his chest. Even though that's what I said he made it sound so crude!

"I’m just saying! That day at the party I felt y-your...your thing…”

"My dick. You felt my dick."

I covered his mouth with my hand, the merry glint in his eyes could not be silenced. Did he have no shame?

"Point is, I would prefer if things returned to how they were before."

Cross pressed his nose to my hair, inhaling. "I don't know, CJ. I think l like you."

"You think?!" And I couldn't deny the wave of flutters as I processed his confession. "Didn't you say I wasn't your type? This doesn't even sound like you."

His nose traveled to the side of my face, soft lips ghosting over flushed skin. "Mm, you can see how confusing that is for me." He leaned in and pressed a brazen kiss on the corner of my lips. "We'll just have to find out."

We?

"We are not finding out anything." I shoved him off me and glared. I'm not someone to be experimented with.

And why was he still giving me that stupid smile? "Don't

even think of oomph!"

Cross stood, sweeping me in his arms like a bride.

Before I could even protest, he set me down on the chair. It was all so startling I could only blink. He then grabbed a chair to sit beside me and proceeded to use my supplies for his project like he hadn't just confessed to liking me.

My eyes narrowed. What game was he playing at? What he didn't know is that Hilary told me of a girl he was messing with in second period. I hadn't found any proof yet, but maybe today I would venture out to see if there was any credibility to his so-called "feelings". More importantly, to see who this girl was. According to Hilary I should be careful around her. As far as I knew he hadn't been involved with anyone after Jennifer.

I clicked my tongue and began my own project.

Only a fool would believe a playboy like Cross. And it seemed I would experience first-hand what it felt to be charmed by one.