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I don’t think it’s about me. She just has an issue admitting that she wants sex. Considering what I know of her history, it’s hardly surprising. She needs time, and I have to give it to her. Even if it kills me.
It just might.
41
SARAH
“Idon’t get it,” Beaufort tells me, nose wrinkling. “How do you go from this line to that line?”
I’ve been tutoring him for the last hour, and honestly, he’s far too smart to need me. My guess is, he didn’t attend the classes or read the material, because the moment I explain something, he immediately assimilates it and can replicate it on any other problem.
I show him how to solve the equation, explaining it carefully, and write down five similar problems for him to solve.
He does so faster than I would have.
“Why are you failing math?” I question, baffled.
His goofy grin widens. “The other day, there was that chick, right? Long legs, tits almost as big as yours. Just when the professor started writing things on the board, she grabbed my cock and started jerking it.Then, she knelt under my desk and started to suck me off.” He shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “What can a man do?”
I shake my head, fighting a grin. He doesn’t need the encouragement. “That happens to you a lot, huh?”
“Most classes; the others are easy enough, but you have to actually pay attention in math.” He sighs, like it’s his personal tragedy. “Anyway, you’re good at this. Teaching.”
I didn’t think I was patient enough for it, but at the price he offered to pay, I figured I’d try. To my surprise, I actually don’t mind; as Beaufort can genuinely keep up, it’s like rereading the coursework to prep—and I need to do that to ace the finals in four weeks anyway.
“Well,Iam not jerking you, so we’ll get you up to that B for sure.”
I was worried about having to make up for a whole semester of bumming around with those finals, but Beaufort’s papers weren’t half bad. He only needs an A- on the final to pass.
He grins. “And what a shame that is.”
“You passing spring semester so you can row next year sure as fuck isn’t a shame.” I start to stand. “But I’d say we’re done for the day; if we try to work on too much all at once, you won’t assimilate it as well.”
He nods, pulling out a thick wallet. He pulls out six crisp twenty notes and hands them to me.
“We said one hundred.”
“Consider it a tip for a job well done.” He winks.
I’m in no position to refuse the extra cash, so I pocket it. “Thank you. Same time Wednesday?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
I like Beaufort; he’s easy to talk to. He tells me about their last race while we walk out of the library.
“Shall I drop you off at the dorm?” he offers when we pass in front of the parking lot.
The walk from the library to the dorm is fifteen minutes, tops, but it’s nice of him to ask.
I shake my head. “I’m staying with friends at the moment.”
It’s strange to have moved in with Violet, Rhys, and Roman. And by strange, I mean it feels way too natural—like we’ve been roommates for ages. No one really clashes, we stay out of each other’s way most of the time, and when we don’t, it’s fun to hang out together.
They’re all pretty tidy, but it wouldn’t matter if they weren’t, because there’s a part-time housekeeping service coming in every day, even on weekends.
We’ve established a routine of sorts.I claim the kitchen a lot, informing everyone I’m cooking, which tends to be followed by a round of “you don’t have to.” I shut them all down. Occasionally, Rhys or Rom point-blank refuse, saying they’ve planned something. They’re both excellent cooks—Rhys on the exotic, exciting side, and Rom, sticking to simple classics—so it’s always nice. We eat together most night unless the guys’ football games take them away for the evening.
Comfortable as it is, I can’t allow myself to feel too settled. It’s not my place. I need to figure out how to return to the dorm in order to avoid taking advantage of my friends.
