Chelsea’s entire face brightens as she takes the papers from me, our fingers grazing, her gaze roving over each page as she looks through them. “I’m so glad you did this. Did you go to class?”
I nod. It had been kind of hard, because I was behind in assignments and it was difficult to keep pace, but I pretended to keep up as well as I could. “Went to my Creative Writing class, too.”
“That’s the one class I’m looking forward to working on with you. I’ve heard it’s your secret talent,” she says, grabbing her phone so she can shove it into her backpack before she opens up my academic file.
“I have lots of special talents.” When she glances up to look at me with a frown, I raise my brows at her, trying to look like an egotistical ass.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure,” she says sarcastically, but her cheeks are tinged with pink, giving away her discomfort at my dirty joke. Cute. Most girls would flirt right back or call me out on it.
“So what do I have due in the Creative Writing class?” I may as well get it out in the open and make it happen. The faster I can get through this, the faster I can get rid of her and get on with my life.
“You could start on these shorter assignments. They’re quick and should be easy for you.” She hands me a sheet of paper and I take it, glancing over the missing assignments and the requirements they have before I turn them in.
Great. I need to actually create and keep a portfolio of my writing for the entire semester. Considering I’m already about six weeks behind, I have a lot of catching up to do. At this rate, I’m never going to get back on the football team.
Fuck that.
“Can I ask you a question?”
She glances up at me with startled wide eyes, her lips parted. “Um, sure.”
“Do you really think I can catch up on all of these assignments quick enough so I can get back on the field and play the rest of the season?” My heart feels like it’s nearly stopped as I wait for her answer.
Chelsea sinks her teeth in her lower lip, flicking her gaze away from mine. “I … don’t know. You have a lot of missing assignments.”
“Will you help me?” I clear my throat, hating how hopeful and pleading I sound. I don’t beg. If shit doesn’t go my way, I let it go.
But I can’t let this go. School, football, my sister’s approval … I need it. I want it.
“I am helping you.” Chelsea smiles, her voice soft, her eyes filled with this sparkly glow that’s pretty damn mesmerizing.
“I know. You are. Can you help me more, though? Like with the portfolio and stuff? Maybe I can see you more than just twice a week?”
She blinks, looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind for making the suggestion. “I don’t know …”
“I’ll pay you,” I interrupt.
“Of course you’ll pay me,” she retorts, making me smile. Okay, my tutor is a little feisty. Good. I was hoping she had a backbone. “It’s just that I have a pretty packed schedule.”
“Tutoring around the clock, huh?” I lean back in my chair, curious to hear what’s keeping her so busy.
“Well, no. Not exactly.”
“Heavy class load?” I suggest.
“Definitely that.” She nods.
“Your social calendar is jammed with upcoming events.” I don’t even know where I’m coming up with this crap. “I’m guessing you’re part of a sorority, right?”
She laughs, scrunching her nose. “Not quite. And no, I’m definitely not in a sorority.”
“Steady boyfriend who never lets you out of his sight?” Okay. I threw that last one out because I had to f**king hear it. Does she have someone? Even a casual someone? I’d like to know. Why, I’m not exactly sure, because I don’t have plans on ever doing anything with this girl, but I’m curious.
Her cheeks turn this rosy pink as she drops her head, studying my open file with rapt attention. I know it can’t be that interesting. “No. No boyfriend.”
Relief surges through me, which is absolutely ridiculous. I should not care.
“How about you?” she asks. “Do you have a girlfriend?” Her voice shakes on the last word and I stare at her, willing her to look up, but she doesn’t.
“Nope. No girlfriend,” I mimic her answer. She lifts her head at that and I find myself momentarily lost in her gaze. Stupid. “Why do you ask? Hoping for a chance?” I smirk at her like the ass**le I am, because I can’t help myself.
She grimaces. “Yeah, right.”
Ouch. I bet she looks at me and sees a dumb jock, which is kind of true. She probably likes brainy, skinny dudes who study all day and never make a sexual move on her. They probably make her feel safe.
I am the farthest thing from safe for her, especially when I look at her and all I can think about is what she looks like naked.
Fucking get over it, Maguire. This chick is not your type.
“I have another job, I’m taking sixteen units this semester, and my tutoring schedule is the heaviest I’ve ever had,” she explains. “So it’s going to be sort of hard to fit you in for extra help. I’m sure you’re busy, too.”
I am. But not at the moment, what with my reduced work schedule and my temporary suspension from the football team. “Not as busy as I was last week, that’s for sure. Listen.” Leaning forward, I rest my forearms on the table, trying to get close to her so I can get my point across. “I’ve got to accelerate these tutoring sessions. I need to get back onto the team. I—”