Jasmine
Davin waited, his face completely blank.
I lowered my head quickly, trying to hide the laugh threatening to escape.
Ari scooted closer and whispered, “Jeez. What did Tyler do to him?”
I pressed my lips together. “Maybe he hates bad posture,” I joked. “The man hates seeing a guy hunched over.”
Her face scrunched up. “What?”
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Tyler stumbled through half an answer before Davin finally let him off the hook.
The rest of the lecture passed without another message, probably because Davin knew I would never let him live it down.
By the time the clock hit nine fifty, I’d started to believe we’d made it through clean. No mistakes, no lingering looks, nothing obvious enough to make anyone wonder.
Noth
