The following evening, Amara returned to the library to finish the project. To her surprise, Liam was already there, waiting at a table.
Of course he's early, she thought, trying to hide her nerves.
"Hey," he said simply. "Let's get this done."
They spread out the papers and laptops, occasionally bumping shoulders as they worked in close quarters. Each time it happened, Amara felt her stomach twist.
Focus, Collins. Focus on the project, not him, she scolded herself.
At one point, a stack of papers slipped, and Liam was quick to catch them before they fell. Their hands brushed lightly.
Amara froze. Why does he always do that?
He gave a small smirk. "Careful next time."
Smirk? Seriously? she thought, cheeks burning.
The clock ticked on, and the tension shifted from annoyance to something else—something warmer, more personal. By the time they packed up, Amara had to admit, silently: Maybe he's not so bad after all…