“What’s to avoid? I told you what you wanted to know.”
“So they think you want to get in my panties.” She stumbles over the word panties, which is cute. She contemplates me for a minute, her gaze intense. “What if I told you I don’t wear any?”
Her words startle me so much I cough. Like, start hacking so hard I have to bend over to try and catch my breath, my hands on my knees as I stare at the dew-covered lawn before me. The image of my pretty little tutor not wearing any panties beneath those jeans that look painted on her body almost pains me. Makes my fingers itch to touch her. Undo the snap and slide the zipper down and see if she’s telling me the truth or not.
“So.” I clear my throat. “Are you wearing any? Panties?” I ask when I finally find my voice again. I stand up straight, hands on hips, my lungs still burning.
She smiles. Fuck, she’s cute. “Yes. I am. Sorry. I tricked you.”
Well, hell. That’s a disappointment. “Come on.” I go to her, grab her by the crook of her arm, and start walking with her. “Which building is yours?”
Chelsea points it out and I take her there, following her up the stairs as I check out her butt. Again. My mind is now filled with images of her with no panties on. Picturing that perfect ass of hers naked makes my c**k twitch.
“So I’ll see you Wednesday?” I ask as she unlocks her door. I’m leaning against the rough stucco of the building, noticing that her fingers shake the slightest bit as she tries to turn the key. It takes her a couple of attempts before she flips the lock and opens the door.
I wonder if I make her nervous.
“Yes.” She flashes me a quick look. “Thanks for helping me out tonight.”
“No problem. Maybe we could … meet again sometime.” What the f**k do I mean by that?
Don’t go there, Maguire.
“To work on your assignments?” She turns to face me fully, her hand clutching the door handle. She could just slip inside if she wanted to. There’s no need to finish this conversation.
But here she is. Talking to me. Showing interest. There’s more going on between us than I want to admit. She feels it, too. I know she does.
“Yeah,” I say, lying through my teeth. I want to see her again but not to work on assignments. “I usually have practice tomorrow night but since I’m suspended from the team, I’m free. But only if you can get together, of course.”
“Of course.” She offers me a grim smile. “But I have to work.”
“What time?”
“I go in at eight and work till two.”
That shift sucks. It’s not safe for a girl to be out that late, especially a sweet, innocent one like Chelsea. “How about earlier? We can … have pizza. Or whatever you like.”
This sounds like a f**king study date. And I don’t do study dates. I don’t date period. I wonder if she’s caught on to what’s happening yet.
“And I’ll help you catch up. Before I go to work.” She sounds wary, like she doesn’t trust me.
“Yeah. That sounds good. What do you say?” I feel hopeful. I sound hopeful.
“How about I come to your place around five?” she suggests.
She can come all she wants, whenever she wants. As long as she’s coming with me.
Shit.
“Sounds good.” I go for my usual, casual tone. I wonder if she’s falling for it.
I wonder if she thinks I’m a complete dick. I would if I were her.
She smiles, her eyes soft. “Yes. Sounds good,” she repeats. Chelsea’s looking at me like she doesn’t think I’m a dick at all. More like she’s looking at me as if she could actually … like me.
That thought carries me all the way home.
CHAPTER 7
Study Date #1
Owen
Wade is gone. The house is kind of clean. As clean as it can get the day after a spontaneous party and with three dirty guys living there. Well, two live here and the other crashes on our couch all the time. I made those two ass**les I call friends clean it, then I went behind them and picked up, wiped down, or threw away what they missed.
Des left hours ago. The guy has his own place, but he’s always with us. It used to not bother me, but lately I’ve been getting sick of it. He’s dealing out of my house and that sucks. Fable would flip the f**k out if she knew.
So I don’t tell her.
Wade’s at work—he’s an associate at your local discount mega-store, ringing up customers and wishing he were anywhere else. Poor Wade. Poor Des.
Lucky me.
Tonight, it’s just gonna be me and Chelsea and my homework assignments. Oh, and a pizza I’ll order when she gets here and a six-pack of Coke I picked up at the liquor store on the corner. I probably should have got diet, since that’s what girls usually prefer. Empty calories and all that bullshit—I’ve heard Fable say it before.
I really wanted some beer, but that shit is all gone from the house. Not a drop of liquor survived last night’s so-called get-together. Besides, I know Chelsea wouldn’t like that. She doesn’t approve of my extracurricular activities. I don’t have to ask her to know that’s the case. Not that she judges. She’s just not comfortable with it.
She’s innocent. Sort of naïve. I get this feeling she’s been pretty sheltered so far, and I think back on what I said to her last night.
Maybe I can corrupt you.
I want to corrupt her so bad it’s killing me. I saw the way her eyes darkened when I said it. Her lips parted, her tongue darting out for a quick lick. I’d remained neutral, but deep inside I’d gone all hot and sweaty and lusted for her. It would be my absolute f**king pleasure to corrupt her. Show her what she’s been missing. Touch her here, there, and everywhere. Kiss her until we both can’t breathe.