Dana
“Close the door, Tristan.”
He turned at the sound of my voice, smirking, the same smirk that had been taunting me for weeks.
“What is this? Detention?” he asked, dragging the word out.
“You’re disruptive,” I said, setting my laptop aside. “And I’m tired of your sneaky little comments in my class.”
He shut the door, strolling in. “Disruptive? Or are you just distracted? Maybe by some 'impure' thoughts?"
I kept my face straight. “This is what I'm talking about."
He stepped closer to my desk. “So… what’s my punishment, Ms Paulson?”
I hated how my pulse jumped when he called me that.
“You’re going to sit here and finish the project you’ve been avoiding for three weeks.”
“Even if there’s something else I’d rather do?” His voice was low, teasing now.
I exhaled. “Tristan, this is
