That didn’t mean I prayed to God that he didn’t. I had been fully prepared for high school to change our dynamic, but so far, it hadn’t. In fact, it had cemented how strong and solid our friendship was. We were stronger, closer than ever, and I loved it. We didn’t let school or football or cheer knock us down a peg. We always made time for each other. As little as it had seemed to be lately. I hoped we always would.

Jeremy’s groan brought my attention back to him. His grin was gone, and he was a little pale. I placed my palm on his forehead, then his cheeks, checking for a temperature. He was sweaty—clammy, even—and it worried me.

“Jeremy? What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick? Do you want me to help you get to the nurse?”

He shook his head profusely. “No. No. I’m not going to be sick. Well, at least, not yet.” He jerked his head towards the classroom door, which was a few feet away.

That’s when it hit me. I knew exactly what Jeremy’s problem was, and I couldn’t help the giggle that rose up. I slapped a hand over my mouth as soon as it had escaped my lips, but I was too late. Jeremy’s scowl indicated that he’d heard me, and the poor guy was not amused.

“That’s today?!” I exclaimed, laughing again—much to his displeasure. “I completely forgot! How could I have forgotten? You’ve been looking forward to this for years!”

His eyebrows narrowed, and I squealed when he pushed forward and gripped my hips. Then he twirled me around, pressing my back against the lockers. As he brought his head down dangerously close to mine, his expression darkened.

“Are you laughing at me, Tod?” he asked, his eyes dancing with small traces of amusement.

I feigned complete innocence. “Now, Copper,” I replied, pausing to bask in those warm eyes that resembled his nickname. He’d always been Copper to me, and no matter how old we got, he always would be. “Why would I ever do a silly thing like that?”

A low growl-like sound escaped his lips, and it was…sexy. God, it was sexy as hell, and that familiar feeling between my legs nearly knocked me off my feet. My eyes lowered just in time to see him capture his lower lip between his teeth. He looked…turned on. My belly twisted and tightened as my heart began to beat furiously.

“I think you know exactly what you’re doing to me, Sierra,” he said, his voice now gruff and husky.

The way he’d called me Sierra made me melt. For so long, I’d been Tod or Sullivan, but ever since we’d started high school, he’s let more Sierras slip here and there. And I loved it.

I swallowed hard as I stared up into his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was just teasing or if something else was lurking behind his brown-eyed gaze. He took a deep breath, and his chest rose and fell, his hard ripple of muscles on full display underneath his tight football T-shirt. As much as I complained about him spending too much time lifting weights in the field house, I sure did appreciate the results. His body was strong and lean, and built in all the right places with broad shoulders, the solid wall that was his impeccable chest, and arms that were corded with muscle. The desire to run my fingers over his hard edges and planes was so intoxicating that I started to reach my hand out to do just that.

“Let’s go cut some frogs!”

Chris, as usual, had interrupted our moment. If you could have called it that. I was really beginning to hate that guy. Okay, not really. He was so oblivious to anything going on with me and Jeremy that it wasn’t his fault.

At the reminder of what we were about to do, Jeremy’s face paled again.

I grinned up at him. “I’ll be right there with you, Jer. Every step of the way,” I promised, giving his forearm an encouraging squeeze.

It was his turn to swallow hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gave a slight shake of his head. Then he winced. “I don’t want to cut an animal open! I think I need to go to the nurse. You can do this one solo, right?” he asked, looking hopeful. “I’m suddenly feeling ill and need to go home.”

As lab partners, he knew I’d be there for him. He’d been dreading this day for years. My big, bad, football-playing best friend was terrified of having to dissect a frog. Not that he’d ever said the words out loud until now. Still, I had known that it was true.

I remembered watching that episode on one of our favorite TGIF shows a couple of years ago. I had been fascinated, but when I’d looked over at Jeremy, his face had been as pale as it was now, and he’d even broken out into a bit of a sweat. I was nervous about it, too, and I wasn’t sure how I’d do with all the guts and stuff, but I could stomach my way through it. Jeremy? I wasn’t so sure. But I’d do my best to get him through it.

After all, what were friends for?

I pushed past him and walked towards the door. When I was about to step in the classroom, I turned and issued a challenge. “I mean…I guess, if you’re too chicken to do it, then by all means, go see the nurse.”

He muttered a curse under his breath, but sure enough, he shuffled behind me into the classroom. When we made it to our table, the instruments were already set out for us. Somehow, Jeremy paled even further at the sight of them. I was starting to wonder if maybe he really did need to see the nurse. But, just like all those years ago when we’d faced our fear of sharks, I was going to hold his hand all the way through this. By the end of the period, Jeremy would be a master frog dissector.

Okay, that may be stretching it, but he’d have at least passed this portion of biology.

“It’s two hours, Jeremy. Take a deep breath, suck it up, and in two hours, the day will be over and you can go get your man card back in the field house, lifting weights with all the other muscle-head jocks.”

He frowned. “I am not a muscle-head jock,” he protested.

I smiled in spite of myself. Even if he thought it was insulting, at least I was getting his mind off the task before us.

I raised an eyebrow and leaned against the lab table. “Oh really?” I reached over and squeezed his bicep.

He flexed underneath my touch. Case in point.

“Mr. Muscles. You didn’t have these a year ago. Ever since football season ended, you’ve spent all of your free time in the field house. You’ve added at least an inch to those biceps.”

A huge, proud smile spread across his face. “Are you complaining?” he asked.

Before I could answer, he stalked towards me and wrapped his arms around my body, squeezing hard.

“The bigger the muscles, the harder the hug. And I know how much you love my hugs, Sierra.”

Ha. He didn’t even know the half of it.

I briefly closed my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy the smell of his fresh soap as the scent danced around my nose. It was true. I adored his new muscles. I wanted to run my hands up and down them, explore the toned definition under my fingertips.

When he’d first told me that he wanted to start lifting weights, I’d rolled my eyes and given him a soft punch, telling him that he didn’t need muscles and, if he spent too much time in the gym, he’d start losing brain cells. In truth, I hadn’t wanted him to turn into one of those meatheads who drinks five protein shakes a day and tans so often that they look like my great-aunt’s favorite leather handbag from 1986 that she refuses to get rid of no matter how worn and cracked it gets. I had been afraid Jeremy would head down that path and my cute best friend with boy-next-door good looks would disappear.

Boy, had I been wrong.

He wasn’t bulky or veiny, and he didn’t resemble one of those super-tan, roid-rage machines in bodybuilding magazines. He was just…strong. Big. I never wanted him to let me go.

Mr. Turoff clapped, and my eyes popped back open. I frantically gazed around the room, making sure no one had witnessed my basking in all that was Jeremy Banks. I thought I was in the clear…until I saw Chris staring at me, slack-jawed. When I caught his gaze, his eyebrows narrowed. My cheeks heated, and I tore my eyes away from him.