She rubbed his chest like she owned him. He pulled her hand away, his eyes still on me, as if he were sorry she’d interrupted us, but it was too late.

I got angry. Mostly at myself.

Why did he have this stupid power over me?

He was a liar and a cheat and a user. Was I the kind of girl who got dumped by a guy but kept going back time and time again, begging for another chance? No, no, no. I was not that girl, had never been that girl. Because I had better things to do. Like ballet…and sell drugs.

Wake up, Dovey, I yelled at myself. Dude is a loser.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it. “See you in Lit,” I pronounced in a bright voice. I practically ran to class and to my seat, cursing myself for entertaining the idea of spending time with him. I sucked.

Mrs. Weinstein made a bee line for me. “Dovey, I’m putting you with Sebastian today, and Emma with Cuba. You good with that?” she asked, a tentative tone to her voice.

“Why?”

She sighed. “You both seemed agitated yesterday, and after class, Cuba came to me and requested—”

“Fine,” I said, getting up and going over to the desk Emma had had the day before.

Cuba really couldn’t stand to be near me.

The three of them came in together, of course. Cuba avoided my eyes, but Emma didn’t. She smirked and glared at me triumphantly. Whatever.

Weinstein informed Sebastian I was his new partner, and he flashed me a big smile and a wink. He eased his muscular build in his seat, looking hot in his tight jeans and Vital Rejects shirt. Yep, another rich jock who had it all: looks, money, and charm. Great.

“So, me and you babe?” he asked, hitting me with those ice blue eyes.

I arched a brow. “Don’t call me babe, or I may kill you. It’s Dovey.”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

I decided to dig a little.

“So, April Novak, huh? You and Cuba dating best friends. Very cute.”

He grinned. “I don’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re asking. You interested in the position?”

“Um, no.”

He pretended to be crushed. Then he flung a glance at Emma. “And FYI, Emma is not Cuba’s girl.”

Indeed. “She wants to be,” I commented under my breath.

Even though I knew it wasn’t a good idea—when would I ever learn?—I cocked my head enough so that I could watch them. Emma had scooted her desk over to Cuba’s until they were situated side-by-side, their arms resting against each other as they kept their heads low and whispered. And his face…I don’t know…it was just different from any of the other times I’d observed him with a girl. More soft, almost gentle. It pierced my heart. Because he’d been that way with me. That unbreakable gaze he was giving to her had belonged to me first, dammit.

My hands bunched up, and I blinked rapidly, pushing back the emotion. Had he finally fallen in love? Was it really over between us? Because I’ll be honest, since yesterday when he’d looked at me, a tiny part of me had been toying with the idea—and there I go again. Being ridiculous. Get a grip, Dovey. He broke up with you. He’s moved on.

In the background, Weistein mentioned something about Samuel Taylor Coleridge, so I followed Sebastian’s lead, turning to the same page he did, attempting to keep my eyes off Cuba. This class wasn’t for slackers.

A few minutes later, Sebastian tapped his pencil against my head.

“Ouch,” I said. “What was that for?”

“I’ve been talking to you about this Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and you haven’t heard a word I said. Partners help each other, Tiny Dancer.”

I ignored that and fumbled around with the book, trying to see where we were.

I found it. “Yeah, I love this one. It’s where the old sailor kills an albatross and everyone on the ship gets upset.”

He pointed his pencil at me. “We haven’t gotten to that part yet. You can’t fool me. Who were you thinking about in La La Land?”

I cut my eyes at Cuba.

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s not into relationships. You know that, right?” he murmured, coming in closer so we could talk more privately. I leaned in.

“Don’t care about him,” I said softly.

He nodded. “No matter what your mouth says, the heart wants what the heart wants.”

“And how do you know what my heart wants?”

He grinned. “I got skills when it comes to relationships. Trust me. If it wasn’t for me, my bro never would have gotten with the love of his life.”

I arched a brow. “Really? So you’re like Mr. Cupid?”

He busted out with a guffaw. “I love that. Call me that from now on. I insist.”

“You’re really full of yourself.” And I kinda liked it. And him. “Here’s the deal: you don’t call me Tiny Dancer, and I will call you Mr. Cupid.”

He grinned and cocked an eyebrow. “Can I tell you a secret?”

My lips twitched. “Maybe I already know it.”

“How?”

I shrugged. So not telling him how I like to listen in on convos.

He continued, “I want you to come to the dance.”

“I don’t date guys from BA.” Now.

“I would love to take you out,” he flicked his eyes to Cuba, “but that guy would beat the shit out of me, so not gonna happen.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not true. There’s nothing between us but a rotten history.”

“Ha. I saw him react to you this week when most stuff never fazes him. That guy can mow down the fastest quarterback and never miss a beat. You on the other hand, sent him off. Crazy that.”

I shook my head. “He wouldn’t want me there.”

He chuckled. “I do. I think you might be what he needs.” He arched his brows as if I should know what that meant.

“Hmmmm, maybe you missed it, but out in the hall this morning, Emma had her hands all over Cuba. And I’m not interested anyway.”

“Forget them. Just come and have fun. If you say yes, I’ll add you to the limo list. Only the sexy people get to ride,” he said, doing a goofy shoulder shimmy.

I laughed. A party sounded like fun.

But wait.

I had a cache of drugs sitting in my dance bag for crying out loud. That was my priority, not Cuba and his party.