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“Okay, let’s start with standard deviation.” I open my notebook and pick up my pen. “For the first—”
“I know how to do this,” Aidan interrupts. He flips the page over to look at the back. “Know how to do all of these.”
I exhale. “I’m trying to make this as easy as possible, okay? You don’t need to pretend—”
Again, he interrupts me. “I’m notpretending. I know how to do all of these.”
“Professor Carrigan picked the topics based on what you struggled with on the final.”
He shrugs, nonchalant. “I was more interested in fast-forwarding to winter break than taking a final. Doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb.”
Irritating, arrogant, and distracting, maybe, but not dumb.
Aidan picks up the paper again. “Is Carrigan grading this, or you?”
“Uh, me.”
Aidan looks up, focusing all his intensity squarely on me. He leans forward, the motion sending a whiff of spicy cologne my way. I resist the urge to inhale deeply, wishing he smelled like stale sweat or body odor instead. Wishingsomethingabout him was repellant, aside from his lackluster work ethic.
“Let’s skip the lecture today, then. If I bring this back next week and I got better than an eighty, you trust me when I tell you it’s a topic I already know. If I don’t, you can walk me through the entire class for all I care. I’m saving us both time.”
I should be relieved. Instead of an hour of his company, it’s maybe been five minutes since he showed up.
But instead of pleased, I’m offended he’s so obviously trying to get away from me as quickly as possible.
He barely let me get more than a few sentences out, but I don’t think I’m that terrible of a tutor. I already looked over the syllabus and I’m confident I know the material well enough to help him pass.
I cross my arms. “Eighty-five or better, and you have a deal.”
Aidan flashes me a heart-stopping grin. “Deal.”
He leans back and stretches again, then winces like he just got kicked. Shoves the textbook back toward me. “Same time next week?”
“If bysame timeyou mean ten minutes late, I’ll be leaving after five next week.”
“I’m sorry,” he says seriously. “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”
Aidan apologizing strikes me as a rare event.
He’s hot, rich, and charming. Any one of those dismisses responsibility.
The combination of all three? I’m guessing he gets away with whatever the hell he wants.
“See ya.” He grabs the assignment paper and then strolls out of the library as quickly as he appeared. At least three people turn to watch him leave.
I stare after him too, releasing a shuddery exhale before sinking against the hard back of the chair.
I thought my first one-night stand was a total success.
Turns out it was a complete failure.
Even if Aidan had told me his last name when we first met, I wouldn’t have put the pieces together. My dad mentions his players sometimes, but I’m rarely paying close attention. I don’t have the roster memorized. I still would have climbed into that hot tub…with one of my father’s players. With a guy I’m stuck spending an hour a week with.
What are the odds we met more than a thousand miles from here and end up in the exact same place again?
I shake my head, then start packing up my stuff. I won’t be able to focus here, not with Aidan’s presence still lingering in the air. The chair he sat in is half-crooked from his hasty exit, the delicious scent of his cologne surrounding me.
