The morning after, Angela’s smirk haunted me more than I wanted to admit. Even as I tugged my sweater tighter around me and tried to bury myself in class notes, the echo of her voice, smooth, sharp, and dripping with venom wouldn’t let me breathe easy.

“Homework doesn’t leave you flushed, darling.”

She knew. Or at least she thought she knew. And that was enough to make my hands shake when I scribbled down equations, enough to make my throat dry when Rhett brushed his hand against mine ...