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She held back a smile. “Upgraded? Cocky much?”
“It’s easy to be better than the second-string Left Wing who’s only on the team because his daddy coaches them.”
She looked between me and the house as though she was contemplating my offer. Why was I desperately hoping she’d say yes? I didn’t want the night to end with her, that much was for sure. “No. I should get back to my dorm.”
“And what? Sleep? Because this will only take five minutes.” I took her hands, letting them slip in between my fingers. “Let me thank you in the only way I know how.”
She growled. “Tanner, you make it sound like you’re desperate, and the only way you can repay me is by stripping.”
“I mean, if I did that, would it mean you’d tutor me more than once a week?” I elbowed her in the ribs. She laughed. It was light and carefree.
And I liked it.
A lot.
A hell of a lot more than I should.
As she twisted her lips, I could tell she was caving in. “Okay. Five minutes, but then I need to get home. I’ve got another tutoring session tomorrow that I need to be fresh for.”
I raised my hand to my chest, slack jawed. “Another tutoring session? Miss Paige, are you cheating on me?”
“With another tutoring client? Yes.”
“Give me his name. We’ll need to have a discussion.”
“Hername is Hazel, and don’t worry, she isn’t interested in dating me.”
“But you think I am?” I raised a brow, holding back my smile, because she totally didn’t mean that slip, did she?
She couldn’t hide her blush, and something about it made me proud. That I finally cracked her hard exterior. “No. But since you’re pretending you’re interested in me for this deal, I can only hope that you might be interested in dating me, too. Or at least interested in pretending again.”
“You’re not wrong.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and walked her in the house's direction. “Now, come on. I want to go show you off.”
“If you insist” Although she pretended it was a reluctant agreement. I could tell she was just as intrigued as me as to what was going to go down tonight.
Chapter 8
When I walked in here hand in hand with Aster twenty minutes ago, I did not expect things to take the turn they did. Sure, everyone was staring at us in shock when we opened the door, and although I knew, that was partly down to the fact that Aster was just that. A showstopper. Undeniably, one of the hottest girls on campus meant constant glares, and the people in the room were wondering how I managed to get her clinging off my arm. A bigger part of me knew it was mostly down to the fact that I was in sweatpants and a raggedy old T-shirt while the rest of the guys were dressed in suits. Aster hadn’t fared better because every other girl in here was wearing a tight black dress and a huge purple bow in their hair. Her knees knocked together as she looked at me with a fake smile plastered across her face and said through gritted teeth, “What have you done?”
I didn’t know why she was complaining. Even in her pleated skirt, she was the hottest girl in the room. Granted, Aster could be wearing my sweatpants, and I’d still glaze over her. And now I was thinking about Aster in my pants… great.
I didn’t care. I just held Aster’s hand and walked further into the room. It was becoming apparent to me that when her hand was in mine; I felt something. Something I didn’t want to admit to myself, and I would definitely not be admitting to Aster unless I wanted her to stab my balls with a pencil.
I’d heard about people falling for their therapists, but did the same thing happen with your tutor? Because the hard on in my sweats when I thought about her was getting holy uncomfortable. I cursed myself for not having the better sense to find boxers before coming out for this tutoring session because I was hanging low.
Whispers followed us as we walked further into the room, and unfortunately for the both of us, we were taken in separate directions. She was glaring at me from across the room, ignoring the two blonde girls she was standing next to. Not that they noticed. They were caught up in their own vapid conversation to see the pretty redhead was staring at me like she was thinking about all the ways to tear me limb from limb.
“What do you think, Tanner?” Rachel’s hand wrapped around my arm, and she squeezed a little, giving me a surprised face when she realized just how big my muscles were. No, shit, Sherlock. I was a Quarterback for one of the best teams in the country. Would have been pretty hard to throw bullets without some muscle behind it.
I glanced around the circle of people that had somehow managed to flock their way to me and I gave them a curt smile. Aster might not believe it, but there were plenty of other places I’d rather be right now than here. My gaze stopped when I was met with a few members of the hockey team. Everyone knew Scotty Hendricks, the star Center who was following in his dad’s footsteps, but Brooks Hart was a different story. He played Right Wing and was almost as quiet as their Goalie Dash Bridges. I’d met them through various sports events, but I was surprised they were aligning themselves with this sorority. Albeit, none of them looked particularly thrilled to be here.
Finally, my gaze landed on the man next to me. The one I’d been trying to avoid since he so brazenly came and saddled up beside me, pretending we were old buddies. Although, having stood next to him for the better part of an hour, I just might be his oldest friend. Connor wasn’t great with people, even though he thought he was, which just meant things could get awkward really fast.
Thankfully, Connor wasn’t looking at me because he was too busy hanging off Rachel’s every word. Wearing his own jersey, he looked more ridiculous because who wore their own jersey out, during their off season, no less? He was doing it to get attention because, clearly; he wasn’t able to get enough recognition from the bench.
Not that I was any better.
Still. I couldn’t help but analyze Aster’s ex from the corner of my eye because I just didn’t get why she’d go for a guy like him. He was so… smarmy and had shifty eyes like a hamster. She was vivacious, sarcastic, and lively. They seemed liked the exact opposite and would have nothing to talk about. But then again. Maybe they didn’t do a lot of talking. My fingers gripped the glass of water I had in my hand a little tighter.
