“There’s a espresso cart over there.” Forty minutes later, our hour is sort of up. Ambrose has quizzed me on three chapters, tossing questions on asteroids, comets and gravity in my course, then nodding with satisfaction every time I bat them again with a stable reply. He’s sitting much less stiffly than when he first arrived, legs stretched out lengthy and crossed on the ankle, propped up on one elbow to learn.

It’sintimate. Mendacity with one other particular person on this picnic blanket; feeling the identical breeze play over my cheeks that simply ruffled Ambrose’s hair. The stable heat of his physique close to mine has its personal particular form of gravity, sucking me nearer, and each time Ambrose swigs from his bottled lemonade, I watch his throat shift prefer it’s the perfect film ever.

Now Ambrose squints within the course I’m pointing. “A espresso cart? The place?”

Possibly I shouldn’t have mentioned something, however I’m haunted by the look this man gave the counter within the Brainy Bean final week. The sheer longing in his eyes—it torments me.

Did Ambrose ever get his espresso? Why does he deny himself like that? And would he… would he ever look atmethat manner?

Like he’s going insane with out me.

Like he may die with out a style.

“By that tree.” Meals packets crinkle as I sit up, cautious to protect my costume in opposition to the breeze. “Shall I get us some?”

“I—no.” Instantly flustered, Ambrose tugs at his rolled shirtsleeves. “No, thanks. I’ve given it up.”

“Espresso?”How? Most college students have extra espresso than blood of their veins, and grad college students are the worst of all. They’reallhooked, flocking across the Brainy Bean like caffeine-addicted vampires, barely even human earlier than they get their first sip.

“Sure.” Ambrose stops fiddling and turns to me, determined and haunted. “However it’s not going properly. Distract me please, Lane.”

Oh! Um, positive.

“I need kissing classes,” I blurt, wincing as a red-hot blush stains my cheeks. Bye bye, dignity—it was good whereas it lasted. “For our subsequent session.”

Ambrose blinks.

“I used to be going to discover a higher manner of asking. A smoother manner.”

He blinks once more.

“However you wished a distraction and I panicked.” And now I wish to die. The place’s a helpful black gap once you want one? “In my protection, I perceive Astrophysics, however I’ve zero clue about kissing. I’ve by no means even tried it. So that you’d truly be instructing me one thing I must be taught, as an alternative of…”

My phrases path off weakly.

Ambrose hasn’t moved an inch.

My abdomen churns as I wait there in silence, shifting awkwardly on the picnic blanket. Finally, when it’s clear it’d get darkish whereas we’re nonetheless out right here, watching one another, I prod his shoulder. He’s toned below that shirt.

“Sure,” Ambrose says, jolting again to life and shaking his head. “I imply, no. No. Sorry. I can’t, Lane… that may be… it might… I couldn’t…”

It’s his flip to path off, and I’d curl up right into a ball and wither of embarrassment proper right here—if it weren’t for the best way his gaze retains dropping right down to my mouth. Ambrose clears his throat, and his tortured eyes dart again to me again and again.

All the way down to my lips, then away.

To my lips, then away.

To my lips, then to a spot above my left ear.

My uptight tutor doesn’t know the place to look, however he retains coming again to my mouth. He’s tempted. He’s truly tempted.

“By no means thoughts,” I say sweetly, providing him one other grape. “It was a foolish suggestion. We will discuss Astrophysics subsequent time too.”

Ambrose nods, tugging at his collar. His voice is wrecked. “Good. That’s a greater concept, Lane.”

He doesn’t sound joyful about it. Smoothing down my costume, I conceal a smile.

4

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