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Jordan nods slowly. “Yeah, I feel you, man. Thanks.”
“Now, if you really want to impress a girl, then you should take her surfing.”
“But I’ve never surfed before in my life. I would look like an idiot.”
“Well, I can help you with that. An athletic guy like you, I could have you up on a surfboard in no time.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. What does your school schedule look like?”
“I have classes until three and then free time after that.”
“I’ll come by around three then, and I’ll teach you how to surf and how to get that girl to go out with you. But you have to go to classes, or the deal is off. Understand?”
“But why do I need school? I want to play professional baseball. I want to be an athlete. Look at you. You are a surfer. What do you need school for?”
“You don’t think I needed an education to do what I do?”
“No, all you do is surf all day and get paid for it.”
Asher laughs. “No. It isn’t that simple. I don’t make a lot of money off of my competition wins. I make most of my money off of sponsors and advertising, which means I have an agent. I spend a lot of my day signing contracts. I have to read contracts and understand them. Otherwise, I’d get screwed out of money that I deserve. I have to be able to protect myself. If not, I don’t get to be a surfer anymore,” Asher says, looking up at me. Like he knows how stupid it was for him to sign a prenup without actually reading it. But it also says that, above everything else, he trusts me.
“And what is your genius plan if you get injured in your first year? You will need a degree so that you could work as an agent or do something else related to baseball, if that is your passion. But you need education.”
Jordan nods and is seriously thinking about everything that Asher said.
“So,
do we have a deal? No more skipping classes.”
Jordan takes his time but holds out his hand to Asher. “Deal.”
Asher shakes it. “Good. Now, get your ass to class.”
Jordan smiles, gets up, and then walks past where I’m standing with my arms crossed, leaning against the doorway.
“You married an awesome guy, Mrs. Calder,” Jordan says.
“Thank you, Jordan.” I consider correcting him, but it seems that everyone is going to start calling me by Asher’s last name.
Once Jordan is gone, I walk over to where Asher is sitting on the couch and take a seat next to him.
“How did you just do that?”
“Do what?”
“Jordan is one of our most troubled kids here. I was actually coming over here to talk to him. How did you not only pick him out of all the kids here, but also get him back on track?”
“I don’t know if he is back on track or not. It’s up to him to decide if he really wants and is ready to be back on the right track. But, hopefully, I gave him a good push.”
Asher grabs my legs and drapes them across his body. “And, as far as how I picked him out of all the kids here, I guess I could see a little bit of myself in him.”
I cock my head to the side as his lips softly kiss me. Far too soft for what I want. I want passion, the kind where he is going to carry me to the restroom and fuck me.
“What do you mean, you see a little bit of yourself in him?” I ask, genuinely curious now about his childhood. I honestly don’t know much about him.
He shakes his head. “I’m not going to spill my guts until you tell me more about you. Because, after spending two hours with your mother, I have a better understanding of how you turned into a wild child. So, tell me a story, and maybe I’ll tell you one from my childhood.”
