He saw me and smiled a small, private smile.
I crossed to him and pulled him into a hug without thinking.
He hugged back, but it was restrained, like he was aware of the other people around us, the eyes that might be watching.
I pulled back and looked at him. His eyes had that soft thing going on, that glimmer that made my chest feel hollow and flutters rise to replace whatever had been there before.
Okay. So he wasn’t throwing himself at me in public. That was fine. I could keep it lowkey.
We sat down across from each other. Bennet started unpacking his bag, pulling out notebooks and textbooks and color-coded tabs like he was setting up a command center.
I tried to focus.
I really did.
But the reading lamp cast this warm glow acrosshis face, and he looked so good. Nerdy and adorable and sexy all at once. The memory of last night kept flashing through my head. The sounds he’d made. The way his body had coiled around mine. The spot on his neck that made him gasp.
I shifted in my seat.
“I’m glad you could find the time to do the study session,” Bennet said, opening a notebook. “This is important.”
“It’s only giving me extra time to plan our date,” I said.
He went quiet. Not in a bad way. In that way where he didn’t know what to say and his brain was working overtime trying to find the right words.
“Okay,” he finally said. Careful. Guarded.
But his eyes gave him away. They lit up for just a second before he looked down at the notebook.
My heart lifted.
He started going through my last few assignments, pointing out where I’d gotten things right and where I’d gone completely off the rails. His voice fell into that teaching rhythm, patient and clear.
I kicked off my shoe under the table.
Then I let my foot find his leg.
He didn’t stop talking, but his voice hitched. Just slightly.
I slid my foot higher up his calf, slow and easy.
“So if you look at this section here,” Bennet said, and his voice was a little higher now, “you can see where the standard deviation…”
I pressed my foot against his knee.
He stopped mid-sentence. His face flushed pink.
“Go on,” I said innocently. “Standard deviation.”
He shot me a look, half warning, half something else. “You’re not paying attention.”
“I’m paying a lot of attention,” I said. “I need this attention aid.”
His blush deepened. He looked around quickly, like someone might be listening, then leaned forward slightly. “Jason.”
“Bennet.”
“We’re supposed to be studying.”