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I’m grimacing. I can feel it. That’s pretty much the last thing I want to work on. “I guess so.”
“Let me pick out something for you to read then.” She starts tapping away on the screen, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she concentrates, and I stifle the groan that wants to escape. I imagined biting that same lip not even five minutes ago. “Okay, here we go.”
Joanna flips the iPad around and sets it in the middle of the table. I pick it up, glancing over the paragraphs of words, dreading the idea of reading for the next—I check the time—sixty-two minutes.
Talk about a living nightmare.
Clearing my throat, I set the iPad in front of me, hoping that what I’m about to read isn’t totally boring.
“I’ll come sit by you.” She jumps to her feet and rounds the table, settling into the empty chair right next to mine. “That way I can see if you struggle with a word.”
All right. This is better. She scoots closer to me, her arm bumping against mine briefly, and I inhale as discreetly as possible, breathing in her sweet, slightly spicy scent. I glance to my right and watch, transfixed as she tucks strands of dark hair behind her left ear, and when she lifts her head, she catches me staring.
I don’t look away. It’s like I can’t. This is some crazy shit. It’s obvious I need to get laid when I’m fascinated with a girl tucking her fucking hair behind her ear.
“Are you ready?” she prompts.
Nodding, I return my attention to the iPad and start reading.
THIRTEEN
JOANNA
I triedto keep it strictly business, I really did. I wore a plain black sweater and jeans and no makeup, beyond a little bit of mascara. My hair is straight and boring. Our conversation was tutor-based only. No personal questions allowed.
Then I caught him staring at my chest and realized my sweater is a little clingy.
My first slip-up.
He’s not thrilled to be reading, but I didn’t know what else to do. He definitely needs to practice though. The more he reads, the better he’ll get at it. And I really do need to sit next to him and watch him read, so I can spot if he fills in the wrong word or whatever.
That was my second mistake.
Sitting close to him is a complete distraction. He’s so warm. He radiates heat that makes me want to snuggle close, which is just…
A big no-no.
Then there’s the way I caught him staring when I tucked my hair behind my ear. Maybe he has a hair fetish? Is there even such a thing?
I have no clue.
Just before he started reading, I could hear him inhale, his head tilted in my direction. Like he was trying to smell me, which had me feeling all fluttery inside.
How am I supposed to resist him? He’s making it incredibly difficult.
Knox reads for ten minutes straight, and I don’t correct him once, even though I can tell he’s inserting words that don’t belong. I’m an utter fail at my job. I can’t concentrate. I’m too caught up in my thoughts about him and me. Us. And what exactly we’re supposed to do about it.
There’s something brewing, that can’t be denied. But no way is it serious. He doesn’t do serious. Right now, neither do I. He shouldn’t even be thinking about getting with someone. He’s supposed to be celibate, or whatever, so he can concentrate on school and football.
I refuse to be his downfall.
He finally stops, slouching in his chair and spreading his legs wide. His foot knocks against mine and I immediately jerk away, not wanting a repeat of our Tuesday footsie game.
“This sucks, Jo Jo,” he mutters.
“I know you don’t like reading—”
He cuts me off. “I’m all caught up with my English class. What’s the point in reading when I don’t need to?”
