“You ever think that maybe she’s not into guys?” I ask but hope to god it isn’t true.
The second I saw her I knew I had to have her even though everything about her was wrong for me. She fits the nickname Teach to a capital fucking T. Her perfect posture. The pencil stuck in the dark bun twisted tight on the top of her head. The teal cat’s eyeglasses she kept having to push up the bridge of her cute button nose. Her body, on the other hand, is less than matronly. She has a figure that wouldn’t be out of place in a rap video. To be honest, I’m a little worried I’ll be too distracted by her juicy curves to get any good out of our tutoring sessions. But it will be totally worth failing statistics to spend even another second with her.
Hudson shrugs. “All I know is that dudes have tried but she’s as frigid as she is hot.” Hudson chuckles at his own quip and elbows me. “See what I did there?”
“You’re a true master of wit, Jones.” I roll my eyes to emphasize my sarcasm but he doesn’t seem to catch on as he continues to grin proudly.
While he basks in the glory of his wit, I wonder how much truth there is in it.
Based on our one, brief encounter, he’s probably right. Her tone was pretty rigid. Maybe I am the prick everyone thinks I am but the harder she fought to keep her cool, the more I wanted to fight to break through the ice.
“Seriously, though, Brewer. Don’t bother trying to pull your usual shit with that chick. Waste of time.”
“After three years, you have that little faith in my game? You wound me, Jones.”
“Maybe you could annoy her into a heated reaction. Anger or frustration. But anyone could do that with the right prop. Spill something on her, she’d probably give you an earful. No. If you want to prove anything, you’ll have to get her to go out with you. With your reputation? She’ll be a mile away before you utter a single word.”
My lip curls as the most wicked idea enters my mind. “Wanna bet?”
“You’re fucking kidding, right? Hey! Hold up,” Hudson shouts and the rest of the O-line stops and turns to join our conversation. “Brewer here thinks he can thaw the Ice Queen.”
Our quarterback, Peyton Fredricks jumps right in. “Meghan Hill? No way. I sweet-talked that girl for over a month when we sat next to each other in chem lab last fall. She didn’t crack one smile. Hell, I don’t know that she ever even looked at me.”
“To be fair, you’re not much to look at, Peypey,” I joke and Peyton doesn’t hesitate to put a shoulder in my gut and take me to the ground.
He would have let the jab about his looks go but he hates being called Peypey. I’m the only one who hasn’t learned his lesson and stopped. To be fair, he hasn’t learned that I won’t stop calling him that until it no longer gets a reaction like this out of him.
I roll with the literal punches and am still laughing my ass off when Hudson finally drags Peyton off of me.
“That sadistic shit is exactly why Meghan won’t even give you the time of fucking day,” Peyton says after he calms down and cracks a smile when he remembers who I am and why he wanted to kill me a second ago.
“She’s gonna give me more than that while we’re getting nice and cozy in the privacy of her dorm room.”
They all mutter and wrinkle their faces confused and in disbelief.
“She got assigned to be my tutor for stats. Shehasto talk to me. I’ll just turn on my award-winning wit and charm and she’ll be putty in my hands in no time.” Seriously, though. I’m pulling out all the stops for this girl. I’m going to be on my best fucking behavior to win her over. We may have only exchanged a few words but my heart hurts imagining living a life without her in it.
“You willing to put your money in that big mouth of yours? A hundred bucks if you can get a date with her before the end of the month.” Peyton says all smug and shit.
No way I’m going to turn down the opportunity to rub this win in his face. “You’re on.”
Chapter three
Meghan
Partofmeconsideredturning down the assignment to tutor Trent. I have no doubt he’s going to be nothing but a pain in my ass. I’ll be surprised if he tries at all to focus on the lessons.
“I’m gonna make myself scarce,” Roberta, my roommate and fellow tutor says as she stuffs her backpack with books, laptop, and a box of cosmic brownies.
“Please, don’t,” I whine and grab her arm before she gets to the door.
“You may be immune to hot, flirty athletes but I’m not. I have to leave or I’ll be the one needing a tutor when I fail to get any work done with Trent Brewer to ogle all night.”
“But Bobby…” I tighten my grip and hope she doesn’t kill me. It can go either way, anger or affection, depending on the day when calling her Bobby.
She pries my hand from her arm and pats my cheek while smiling at me the way my mother would to end a negotiation and let me know I’d lost and wasn’t going to get my way.
“Do everything I would do and don’t spare the details when I get back,” Roberta smirks.
