Lycan King's Cursed and Rejected Mate
I focused on his history notes, but my eyes kept drifting to the way his fingers tapped the table when he was thinking, the way his throat moved when he swallowed.
Stop staring, Maya. You look ridiculous.
We worked through problem sets. Every time our hands brushed, reaching for the same pen, static sparked up my arm. By the third time, I was sweating.
It had been more than an hour, and Nanny still wasn’t back. Xander stretched, and his hoodie rode up to reveal a strip of skin and the edge of a tattoo. My mouth went dry.
“Break?” he asked.
We migrated to the couch. I sat on the opposite end, knees tucked under me. It was… a safe distance.