Page 79 of Jump on Three

“I don’t like things left to chance.”

“Okay.”

She slotted her fingers between mine. “Would you like to come back tomorrow at the same time to kiss like that again?”

I breathed out my relief on her neck, grinning against her skin. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

“Don’t come early. I need to study.”

“I will not come early.”

“Thank you.” She patted my hand before letting go to shut down her laptop. I watched over her shoulder as the screen came back on. She clicked a few times, and a name on top of a document caught my eye.

“You have one of Layla Abdo’s papers on your computer.” Her shoulders tensed for a moment, then she went back to what she was doing. “Why, Evelyn?”

She slammed the laptop shut and shoved it in her bag. “Oh, she asked for help. It isn’t a big deal. It barely took any time.” Her voice became higher, with a quiver to it, and there was nothing convincing in her words.

“Why would you help Layla? She threw you off the diving platform.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder and turned to face me, but her head was slightly tilted, bringing her focus to my neck.

No, not my neck, my swallow.

“It isn’t a big deal, Ivan.” She slipped her hand in mine, and that was all it took to throw me off track. “Weren’t you going to feed me? I’m beginning to get cranky.”

“Yes.” I squeezed her little hand, pleased as hell to be holding it. “Let’s go get you some food, angel.”

We grabbed our food and took it outside. Evelyn explained if I wanted her full attention, the dining hall was not the place to capture it. Too many conversations, background noise, people moving around.

Since I had been craving her full attention for months, I swept her out of the building and spread out my jacket for her on the grass. I lounged on my side beside her, idly eating while watching the precise manner in which she consumed her food. I’d always thought it was cute, endearing. Now, I understood her habits were probably due to being autistic.

They were still cute and endearing to me.

“Will you ever tell me what you do at Lyot?” she asked.

“I will.” I trailed my finger from her bare knee down the line of her shin bone. Goose bumps pricked her smooth, tan skin. “My father is rich. He invests his fortunes in various businesses, one being nightclubs. He is Marco’s main investor. It is Marco’s club, but we own forty-nine percent, so Marco cannot run it without us.”

“You say us like it's your money too.”

I huffed a humorless laugh. “It is not, but I have been tasked to co-manage the club alongside Marco. My father framed it as an apprenticeship.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Apprenticeship? What is Marco teaching you?”

Another huff. “Considering he does not want me in his club, not very much. He shoves paperwork at me. Shit he doesn’t want to do.”

She bit down on the tines of her fork, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“You should learn how to look scary from him. He’s very good at it.” Her eyebrows drew down in angry slashes, and her mouth puckered. “I don’t think my face is made for looking tough.”

“No, it is not.” I reached for her chin, giving it a shake to loosen her expression. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m at the club. Marco often scowls at me.”

“Do you do such a terrible job?”

I pinched her calf lightly. “You blame me for his bad mood?”

“Well, he didn’t scowl at me.”

I spread my hand on her leg, wrapping my fingers around the back of her calf. “That is because you are much, much cuter than me.”