11. Mallory #2
He reached my table and stopped, but I refused to look up, to give him the satisfaction of thinking I gave a shit what he did. The boy sitting beside me glanced up, confused as Maddox hooked a foot around the stool and dragged it back with a screech of metal against tile.
“You’re in my seat,” Maddox told the boy flatly, looming over him.
The poor kid blinked. “I—I don’t think—”
Maddox’s eyes narrowed to sharp points. “Move.”
That was all it took. The boy fumbled, nearly knocking his notebook off the table as he scrambled up, muttering an apology before retreating to the farthest empty seat across the room.
Maddox dropped onto the stool beside me, long legs stretching out under the table, one arm draping over the back as he glanced at me. The air between us quivered.
“What are you doing?” I hissed under my breath.
A corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. “You look smart, and I need an A in this class or Coach will have my ass.”
I swallowed. “What if I told you I failed biology in my last school?” Around us, the class slowly resumed its normal volume, but the space between us stayed tense.
“I’d call you a liar.”
“Whatever.” I shrugged. “It’s your football career on the line.”
“I’ll take my chances on you, Hales. You don’t strike me as someone who faints at the sight of blood.”
I cringed. He had no fucking idea. This could be a really bad, and yet… “You would like that, being the hero who gets to swoop in and save the girl.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s more Mason’s thing, the damsel in distress.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what his type was, but I quickly wrangled my tongue before it said something stupid. “If I get you an A in this class, what are you going to do for me?”
Maddox chuckled. “My father would love you.”
I gave him a confused expression, wondering what his father had to do with him getting an A in biology. What was I missing?
Mr. Gifford cleared his throat, calling attention to the front of the room.
He looked to be in his fifties and wore a white lab coat over a button-down and jeans.
The hair at his temples was peppered with gray, and a pair of glasses sat perched on his nose.
“All right, everyone. Settle down. Welcome to AP biology.” He surveyed the room with an assessing gaze, suggesting he’d been doing this for decades.
“If you’re here, it means you either love science or hate yourself. Possibly both. No judgment either way.”
A few laughs rippled through the class, breaking some of the tension.
He moved to his desk, picking up a stack of papers. “This is your syllabus. Read it tonight. All of it. There’s a quiz on Friday about lab safety and class policies, so don’t skip the boring parts.”
Groans from several students.
“I know, I know. Riveting stuff.” He started passing out the syllabi, dropping them on tables as he walked.
“This class will be challenging. The content is college-level. The workload is significant. But if you put in the effort, you’ll learn more than you thought possible.
And”—He paused for emphasis—“the person sitting next to you right now will be your lab partner for the entire year.”
My stomach flipped.
The entire fucking year.
Maddox slowly turned his head toward me, and I met his gaze, forcing myself not to look away. “Looks like you're stuck with me, Hales.”
“Lucky me,” I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.
Mr. Gifford continued talking about lab safety and proper equipment handling and the importance of showing up on time, but I barely heard him because sitting this close to Maddox Corvo, with his shoulder nearly brushing mine every time he shifted, with the faint smell of his cologne mixing with the classroom’s chemical and paper scent, with the intensity of his eyes making my skin prickle, I could concentrate on nothing but him.
First-day jitters were the least of my problems.
My pulse went erratic and unhelpful. I was hyperaware of every inch of space between us, which wasn’t much, especially when his hand moved under my chair and yanked me even closer. “What are you doing?” I snapped.
“I forgot my textbook. We’re sharing.” His breath was warm on the side of my neck.
How was I supposed to survive nearly an hour with Maddox all up in my personal space, making me flush from head to toe by just existing?
“Partner assignments are final,” Mr. Gifford was saying. “No switching. No complaining. You’ll learn to work together or you’ll fail together. Science is collaborative.”
Maddox’s hand rested on the table between us, fingers drumming. I stared at those fingers, at the tattoos visible on his forearm, a series of branches with birds perched on them disappearing under his shirt.
My finger lifted as if it had a mind of its own, but I got a hold of myself before I touched his arm and the ink penned into his skin.
What is wrong with me?
Just because he was close enough that I smelled his cologne didn’t mean I could start groping him in class. Or act on the other irrational thoughts popping into my head when it came to Maddox. It was as if my brain malfunctioned and I forgot who I was.
“You okay?” Maddox asked, so quietly I almost missed it.
I dared to look at him, praying I wouldn’t make a complete fool of myself and do something embarrassing as fuck. Like stare at his mouth too long, but damn, he had the most beautiful lips. Who wouldn’t be curious what they tasted like? “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He tilted his head. “Because you look like you’re about to bolt.”
He wasn’t wrong, but running now would mean admitting I couldn’t handle Maddox Corvo, and I wasn’t ready to give him that. I wasn’t ready to admit he had already gotten under my skin. “You don’t look like a jock,” I shot back, relying on my default setting…sarcasm.
A dark brow arched. “Is that so? And what do I look like?”
I shrugged. “A bad boy.”
“Can I not be both?”
I considered it and what little I knew about him. “I guess. It’s just throwing me, imagining you on the field.”
Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “It’s the perfect place for me to take out my aggressions.”
Interesting. “Do you have a lot of aggression?”
The corners of his mouth pulled down. “More than I would like to admit.”
“Why?”
His jaw flexed, and he got this look in his eyes. “If you knew my father, you’d understand.”
That was twice he commented on his father. I knew a little about him, but only from Paisley and Atlas. Perhaps I needed to uncover more.