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"Hold still," Greg said, brushing his fingertips down her back. Lisa shivered, her face buried in her arms as she lay face down on his bed.
"When you said you wanted to study together, I didn't know it would involve me taking my clothes off," she said, her voice muffled.
"Shhh," he said distractedly. "Stop moving. It makes it harder to see the definition." He glanced at the textbook that lay open beside his bed and splayed his fingers over the top of her shoulder, pressing her neck. "Trapezius."
She smiled under the pressure of his thumb as he idly stroked the side of her neck. "Insertions?" She turned her head to look at him.
He frowned. "Lateral third of the clavicle. Also the acromion and...."
"The scapula," she prompted.
"The spine of the scapula," he corrected.
"Whatever," she said. "I'm still going to ace anatomy when I take it."
"So you think," he said. He dragged two fingers down her spine. "All right, hotshot. Tell me what this is."
"First tell me the innervation of the trapezius," she countered.
"That's not gonna buy you any time," he said with a smirk. "Spinal accessory and branches of C3 and C4." He rolled his knuckles across her lower back.
"Still the latissimus dorsi," she said lazily. "It's a big one."
"Insertion?"
"You tell me," she said. "I'm still pre-med. You're the genius who has to take the midterm."
"Insertion at the floor of the intertubular groove," he said promptly. "Innervation, let's see, could that be the thoracodorsal nerve?"
"Two hundred dollars," she said. "The big ones are easy. Double Jeopardy isn't until the deep muscles."
"Lisa Cuddy, Age Twelve," he said in a mocking, squeaky voice. "When I grow up, I want to annoy everybody with rules and details and be the best at everything."
"So what if I do?" she challenged, pushing herself up on one elbow. He leered at her cleavage and she was glad she'd worn a cute bra. "It's gonna get me farther in life than your rebel without a cause act."
"Yeah, but my rebel without a cause act gets me all the hot chicks with daddy issues," he smirked. "Case in point."
She glared at him and sank back down into the covers, pulling the blanket over her chest. "I'm not the one in this room with daddy issues."
"Middle class suburban Jewish princess pre-med tennis ace," he said, looking her up and down. "Uh huh. Tell me you're not the apple of his eye."
"Projecting," she said, rolling her eyes. "Perpetually adolescent military brat. You tell me this doctor thing isn't a cry for approval."
"Psychologist," he snapped.
"That was low," she said.
"That's where I always aim," he teased, tapping his fingers across her iliac crest, just above the waistband of her jeans.
"Apparently," she quipped, rolling quickly onto her back so that his hand was trapped under her. "Most of the guys who invite me over to study anatomy ain't reading it out of a book, I can tell you."
"Watch your grammar, young lady," he scolded. "You'll never be a bureaucrat with a mouth like that."
"Bullshit," she said, glaring at him, and he kissed her, leaning precariously over her until she pulled him down hard on top of her.
"Now that's more like it," she said contentedly. She splayed her hands over his back. "Tell me the less easy ones. Start with the upper back."
"Levator scapulae, rhomboid major, rhomboid minor," he recited. She could feel his ribs rumbling against hers. "They all act on the scapula, which is that bone you're jabbing your claws into."
"You love it," she said. "Asshole."
"Are you sure you're not doing psychology?" he asked. "Because you suck at it."
"I'm doing you," she said, "so shut up and take your clothes off."
He rolled over and toppled off the edge of the bed, landing on his feet, already skinning his shirt off. "I'd like to make a joke about insertion here."
"You do it and I'll make you name every single innervation there is before you get to insertion," she threatened.
"Baby, you hit all of 'em," he said in an exaggerated smooth-guy voice, and she couldn't help laughing. He grinned that wolfish grin and kicked off his jeans. "Better commit this to memory - if you don't end up top of your class, I'm gonna kick your ass."
"You'll be long gone," she said.
"I'll find you," he said.
"Somehow when you say that I believe you," she said.
"I'm in your bones," he said. "Or at least, I'm gonna be."
"Stop talking and get over here," she said, and finally, he did.