I stop in the middle of the hall to look at my schedule. Even though I know that I have history next, I’m not sure where exactly I need to go for class. There’s a map on the bottom of the back of the paper, but it’s so small that it’s hard for me to see where I’m going.
Swearing to myself, I turn around in the hall and run right into someone.
Someone big.
Someone muscular.
Someone who smells like heaven.
I can’t help myself. I take a huge whiff, enjoying the way the smell plays in my nose, before I look up.
And straight into Quinn’s eyes.
“Oh, hi, Abigail.” He has a slight drawl and the way that he says my name is so knee-shaking that I don’t even bother to correct him. He heard me correct Professor Thiel enough that I’m sure he knows my name. If he doesn’t want to use my real name then I’m sure there’s a reason for it.
“Quinn, right?” I’m trying to pretend like I don’t really know who he is, which is ridiculous. From the moment I locked eyes on him in first period this morning, I haven’t stopped seeing his face. It’s stupid and makes me sound clichéd, but I don’t really care.
His eyes are a piercing blue that looks like the ocean on a sunny day. Dark tousled hair and chiseled cheekbones draw me in. Besides that, he’s the only student in school I’ve seen wearing a leather jacket. He looks like a guy trying to look like a bad boy, but I don’t even care. It works for him.
“You can call me Mr. Masters.” He tilts his head a little to look at me when he answers me, his eyes boring into mine. I feel myself start to flush again, but there’s nowhere for me to hide.
“I think that I prefer Quinn.” At my old school, I was known for being witty. Here, I’m just known for being new, which is much less preferable.
He doesn’t answer but instead reaches out and snatches my schedule out of my hands. “Let’s see what class you have next, Abigail. Since you astonished Professor Thiel with your infinite wisdom this morning, I bet that all of the other teachers can’t wait to have you in class.” He scans my schedule before raising his eyebrow and looking at me.
I can’t help it. My stomach flips when he stares at me. There’s just something about his strong jaw and the way his eyes cut into me that make me want to reach out and pull him towards me. He’s strong and tough, but more fluid than I would have thought from someone that big.
“What? What’s that look for?” I try to keep my voice calm, but the way he looks at me almost makes me shake.
“You’re an artist.” It’s a statement, not a question, but I grab my schedule back from him and then nod.
“Yep. I’m here for painting. Definitely not on the fashion track.” I gesture at my outfit, but he barely registers what I’m wearing with a flick of his eyes. When they land back on my face, I feel like I’m falling.
There’s no reason for this guy to have such an effect on me, but for some reason, he does. I don’t know what it is about him. I mean, I’ve seen hot guys before.
But not like this.
Not ones that seem to stare into my freaking soul each time they look at me.
“Yeah, definitely not fashion.” Before I can register what he’s doing, he reaches out and lifts one of my long blonde curls before giving it a little tug. “You could definitely get some advice from other students around here. They love a charity project.”
“Charity project?” Stepping back, I put a little distance between the two of us. I’m too close to him and I should be walking away to get to class, but there’s something about Quinn that pulls me in. “What the hell does that mean? Besides, if the other fashion students dress like you, then I don’t want any part in how they would style me.”
It’s bullshit. He looks great, and he knows it.
“I’m not in fashion, Abigail. But I will walk you to history, if you want.”
Crap. Do I have another class with this guy? “Is that your next class?”
He shakes his head and scoffs. “No, but I’d walk you there if you want. Consider it my good deed for the day.”
“You’re all heart, but I’ll find it myself.” I try to sound braver and more confident than I really am. In truth, I’m not sure which direction I need to go in to get to class, but there’s no way that I’m going to tell him that. Not when he thinks that he’s such hot shit.
“Good luck, then Abigail. I’ll see you later. We have a few other classes together.” He grins at me and then walks away, disappearing easily into the crowded hall.
I know that I should get to class as quickly as possible, but I take a few deep breaths to try to steady myself. Quinn is completely distracting and way too hot for his own good, but that doesn’t mean that he’s a nice guy. I’ve got to remember to ask Madeline about him. It seems like there’s more to Quinn than meets the eye, and she’s the one to give me the info I need to make it through the year.
My hands are trembling, but I look at my schedule again. After history I have lunch and then a block of art classes, all related to painting. My heart slows down when I think about being in class, first mixing some colors, and then splashing them across a giant canvas. I imagine that at Trinity Prep they actually have real stretched canvases for students to work on, unlike my old school.
Then it hits me.
Quinn said that he’d see me later
