Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

She tosses discarded towels into the laundry basket and walks over,
stopping behind me and pretending to be interested in something in my
locker.
“Or my house?” I ask instead.
My mom knows the Jaegers and she might know about Liv, but she’d
never suspect.
“You need sleep,” she murmurs. “I need sleep.”
“We don’t have to do that,” I clarify, even though she’s pressing her body
into mine and sending me completely different signals. “We can sleep. We
can do anything. I don’t care. I just want to be somewhere where I can touch
you.”
We both look around, seeing the coast is clear, and her nose brushes my
cheek, her warm, fantastic breath sending chills down my spine.
“Pick me up from here at seven thirty,” she says.
“I’ll be here.”
Her eyes meet mine as her hand slips under my shirt, caressing my
stomach. I can see the war going on in her head. The hesitation.
“I’ll be here,” I say again.
I won’t let her down again.
She dives in again, inhales me, and then kisses my temple. “Okay.”
Something moves behind us, and we both jerk our heads, seeing Coomer
frozen mid-step between the rows of lockers, her clipboard about to spill out
of her hand.
Her mouth hangs open, gaping at us, and Liv backs up, heat seeping out
of every pore on my body. How long has she been standing there?
But our coach just blinks, clears her throat, and purses her lips to hide her
smile. “Well, that makes a lot more sense now,” she mumbles and keeps
walking.
I close my eyes, mortified, not so much out of fear, but because she’s well
aware I’ve acted like I hated Liv for nearly the past four years.
Jesus.
“She won’t say anything,” Liv tells me.
“I know.”
But that was close. It could’ve easily been another student.
Liv takes her things and walks past me. “See you later. And if you stand
me up again, I’m going to kill you, okay?”
“Understood.”