by Blake, Remy
Pushing away the voice that told me I was playing with fire, and that I knew better, the sound of his cell ringing brought it back, and reality came crashing down.
Stepping out of his hold, I didn’t even bother with a goodbye. Rushing off, I bumped into a very entertained Sadie.
“Wipe that smug look off your face,” I hiss. “Are we going to grab that coffee or what?”
Grabbing her arm, I drag her out of the gym and into the neighboring café. Once we’re seated, I throw my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the unexpected bouts of laughter that erupt from my mouth.
What is wrong with me?
Sadie looks at me in confusion. “Should I be laughing too?” she asks. “I feel like I missed something.”
Once the laughter subsides and I finally manage to calm down, I explain myself to my patient friend. “That guy was one of my senior Spanish students.”
She sucks in a breath and slaps her chest for emphasis. “The guy that was secretly trying to get a good look of your ass while standing behind you?”
“Is that what he was doing?” I ask, backtracking the conversation.
“As if you couldn’t tell. He was practically frothing at the mouth over you.”
“Oh my god. What the fuck was I thinking?” I groan, the adrenaline slowly wearing off. “I’m going to have to change gyms.”
“Oh, hell no,” Sadie argues. “We just signed up for the yoga class. I waited two weeks to get up close and personal with that yoga instructor. Plus,” she puts a finger on her mouth thoughtfully, “I don’t think the gym is the issue. You still have to see him at work.”
I cover my face with my hands. “How could I be such an idiot?”
“Can we at least order coffee, so you can tell me what happened from the beginning? Then we can work out your plan of attack. I’ll go and order while you gather your thoughts.” She grabs her wallet out of her bag. “Same as usual?”
I give her a quick nod as I watch her head to the counter.
Meeting Sadie has been a blessing in disguise. After that dinner with Cole, I made it my mission to change my outlook on life. We’d parted ways and I’d gone home, tipsy, but somewhat liberated.
Pulling out a pen and paper, I’d clumsily written a list of all the things I needed to do while I was here. Ways that would help make this place feel more like home. I stuck it to the fridge and I tell myself to look at it every day.
Number one on that list was moving off campus. It isn’t likely to happen soon, or be the first thing I cross off the list, but I need it there. I need to remind myself that the shitty parts of my situation have an end date.
Next were superficial things. Things I didn’t need, but I knew would help. The gym, a haircut, maybe even a pet.
I needed to clear my head, and be able to look within myself and become reacquainted with happiness. It was all very spiritual, and hippie-like; things I had never really been into before, but since coming to King, I was realizing how different my life was becoming. It had been split into before and after, and I was still unsure how to live on this side of it all.
I needed to keep my eyes on the prize and work out a way I could still be happy while doing that. And that’s where Sadie comes in.
When I met Sadie at the gym, we instantly hit it off. We were like old friends, and before I knew it, I had stripped myself down to my very core, and told Sadie everything there was to know about me.
The relief was instant. Being able to share the burden with someone was exactly what I needed. A friend like Sadie was exactly what I needed.
She returns with a lanky teenager behind her, carrying a tray loaded with muffins and our hot beverages. I raise an eyebrow up at her, but she just shrugs. “Justin was worried I would topple over and spill hot coffee on myself.”
I give the young gentleman a sympathetic smile and wait for him to walk away. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get people to help you when your two arms and legs work just fine.”
“He was keen, and I just made it work to my advantage. Besides, he did offer. I just don’t think he thought I would accept it.”
“Typical,” I say, taking a sip of my skim latte. People, namely men, were putty in Sadie’s hands; it was a gift she knew she had and I’d watched her numerous times use it for her convenience.
“So, what’s the kid’s name?” she asks in between blowing air on her hot, black coffee.
“Please don’t refer to him as a kid, it makes the whole exchange a million times worse when you do.”
“Man child?” she teases.
“Stop it,” I chide. “Let’s not speak of it ever again.” I wave my hand in her face. “Just banish it from your memory.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “But will you banish it from your memory?”
I feel my face heat up, knowing that seeing him in class, or even possibly bumping into him again at the gym, will bring up the flirting and touching from earlier.
“I think I got carried away,” I tell her. “This is the longest I’ve ever gone without sex,” I add casually. “I don’t think my reaction was to him, specifically.”
Because the universe loves making me out to be a liar, I see Connor walk in from the corner of my eye. His eyes immediately gravitate toward us, almost like he was looking for me.
Sadie kicks me underneath the table and I ignore her, pretending to appear oblivious while sipping on my drinks.
I feel her foot hit my shin. “Ouch, Sadie.”
Her eyes shift behind me, and I just know he’s coming this way. My body tenses at the thought of his imminent arrival.
“Hey, Harper.” His voice is like silk, dancing over my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. I can’t believe I asked him to call me by my first name. “I’m sorry our lesson got cut short like that.”
Turning my head to the side, I look up at him. “It’s okay. It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway.”
“That’s too bad.” He flicks his gaze between Sadie and I. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I press my lips together, giving him a strained smile. Another rejection is on the tip of my tongue when he reaches out and casually takes one of the blueberry muffins off our tray. “Actually,” He takes a large bite, but I’m too transfixed on the man in front of me to care. The way his jaw moves, the way the cords in his neck protrude as he swallows. The way he seductively licks his lips, knowing he has me right where he wants me.
Realizing my mistake, I square my shoulders and shift on my chair, trying to redirect the mood. But it’s too late, he’s playing me like a fiddle, and I have no idea how to make it stop. He places the rest of the muffin back down on the table and winks at me. “I think we should just wait and see if I find you first.”
* * *
Finishing off my last class for the day, I pack up a bunch of papers that still need to be graded, and shove my laptop into my bag. I’ve had a few late nights here this week, and I’m spent just thinking about any more.
Hanging my bag on my shoulder, I manage the few short steps it takes to get to my door and pull it open. Momentarily stunned by the two bodies blocking my exit, I take a step back. “Woah, way to give someone a heart attack.” When my brain finally registers who is in front of me, my stomach rolls with nervousness.
“Dean Billings,” I greet. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Billings looks me over, just like always. His sinister stare appraising me like a piece of meat. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of catching me off guard, I angle my body toward a sheepish looking Connor standing beside him. “Is everything okay?”
Connor doesn’t answer, neither does Billings. Instead, he steps into my personal space, forcing me to move back into the office, Connor quick on his heels.
“Sorry to delay you, Ms. Martínez, but do you think we could have a moment?”
“Of course,” I say, having no choice but to comply. I gesture to the empty ch
airs in front of my desk. “Take a seat.”
It isn’t a surprise when Billings sits in my seat, expecting Connor and me to sit in the others, the balance of power in this situation is not lost on me.
“So, it has come to my attention that Connor may need some extra tutoring for his Business Spanish, and I thought it would be a good idea that you offer him some one-on-one tutoring.”
Thinking back to our conversation the day he received his mark, I remember specifically telling him that me tutoring him wasn’t an option.
“Sir,” I interrupt. I hated calling him that, but I knew he loved it and I needed this to go my way. “Shouldn’t you and I be having this conversation in private?”
“No, I don’t see why. I just brought Connor up here so you can both discuss what fits in your schedule.”
His dismissal makes me see red, my blood boiling on the inside. Shifting my body to face the rich, entitled dick beside me, I plaster on my most saccharine smile. “Of course, Connor, I’d be honored,” Never mind the whole department I run. “to tutor you.”
I catch Dean Billings’ smug smile from the corner of my eye and wonder why he looks so content at pitting us against each other.
Connor can hardly look at me, which makes matters worse when the dean announces his departure and tells us to spend the next half an hour working on our tutoring schedule.
This can’t be fucking happening.
The second the door clicks closed, Connor opens his mouth and I stick my finger up in his face. “I don’t want to hear it.”
7
Connor
I open my mouth a second time to speak and she glares at me.
“Zip it. Your words have done enough damage already.” She closes her eyes and rubs a hand over her forehead. When she raises her eyelids, she directs her gaze my way. “Let’s figure out times for your tutoring sessions, so we can both get out of here.”
Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I fight the urge to speak. Instead, I quickly bob my head in agreement and pull up the calendar on my phone.
She digs through her bag and pulls a small, black leather binder out. Opening the pages to the current date, she balances it on her lap, incessantly clicking her pen. “How does Monday night at seven work for you?”
“I can do that.” I don’t care what’s on my schedule. While seeing her on the regular would never be a hardship, I had no idea she’d react this badly to being forced to tutor me. I feel shitty for what my father’s done. I’ll do whatever she needs me to.
Her eyes study the calendar intently. “Okay. What about Wednesday at seven?”
“That’s fine.”
“We need one more. Hmmm.” She clicks her pen while she mulls it over. “It’s going to have to be Friday at eight.”
I hesitate to answer. Friday nights I like to blow off steam with my boys.
“Is that a problem for you?” she says through gritted teeth, trying to maintain her cool.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Are you sure? Because it seems like it was, and God knows I don’t want to put you out. Or keep you from your Friday night partying.” Her tone is so thick with sarcasm you could cut it with a knife.
“Don’t worry. I can party after we meet,” I reply just to fire her up. Hey, I tried to apologize and she shut me down both times. I feel bad about the dean pressuring her, but I’m not going to sit here and let her shit on me.
“Perfect,” she spits out. “Bring your exam with you and don’t be late. If you’re one minute tardy I’ll be gone and you can explain to Dean Billings why.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be here.”
“I’m not worried. I just hope you do better keeping track of time than when you come to class.”
She has a point. I’m not the most punctual. But in my defense, her class is the first one of the day, and if I’m hungover it’s tough to make it on time.
“Okay, then.” She snaps the binder closed around the pen and returns it to her bag. Hooking the strap over her shoulder, she rises. I do the same and move toward the door. When I’m almost there, I stop short and turn around. Harper is closer behind me than I thought. She loses her balance and I catch hold of her upper arms, pulling her toward me. She crashes into my chest and her fingers clutch my shoulders with an iron grip, leaving us pressed together.
We both freeze in place and all sound around us evaporates, as if we’re sealed in a vacuum. I hear the pounding of my heart and our breaths as they come quicker. Her tits are so soft against my chest.
Glancing down, I watch her pink tongue drag across the seam of her red lips and I want to taste them more than anything. I want to know if they’re as soft as they look. Would they yield under mine, or would she fight me for control?
The more I muse about these forbidden things, the harder my cock grows. She has to feel it responding to her nearness, and yet she hasn’t pulled away. Maybe she’s as curious as I am. Lowering my face an inch at a time, I edge closer. Her lips part on a sigh, telling me she needs this as much as I do. Her eyes drift shut and I move in.
Bang. Bang. Bang. A loud knock on the door has us jumping apart. We stare at each other with eyes wide open and neither of us moves. Thump. Thump. Thump. This time the knocking is louder and quicker.
“Coming,” Harper calls out. She steps around me and opens the door. “Hey, Miles. What are you doing here?”
“I had to work late and I saw your light on. Why are you here? You’re never in the building this late.”
Turning around, I take in the guy she’s talking to. He’s an inch or two shorter than me and well muscled.
“I was scheduling tutoring time for one of my students.” She jerks her head in my direction.
“You? Tutor?” He laughs.
“Yeah, I know, but Billings had other ideas.”
“Did he now?” Miles looks at me as if Harper silently conveyed that I have an in with the dean.
“He sure did.”
“Well, are you done now?”
“I am.”
“I’ll walk you out then.” He smiles at her and it annoys me. Who does this guy think he is? I was going to walk her out.
“Connor, I’ll see you Monday night at seven,” she dismisses me, as if I’m a child.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply. “Thank you for your time.”
She nods as I walk by. Miles steps aside, allowing me to pass as I leave the room. Once I’m in the hallway, I flick a quick glance over my shoulder and smirk at Ms. Martínez. She may have been saved by the knock on the door this time, but she won’t always have a way to escape the inevitable culmination of our attraction.
* * *
On the way home, I decide to swing by my grandparents’ house on the off chance that there will be some pie left. I use my key to open the door. There’s no knocking and waiting to be let in, like at home. My grandparents have been the surrogate, loving parents my own couldn’t be. I’m lucky I have them, because they make dealing with the bullshit much easier.
Stepping inside the foyer, I set my keys down on the long, cherry console table and kick my shoes off. Gram is nuts about her floors being clean. If you dirty them, you better be prepared to clean them, and I don’t feel like cleaning anything tonight. After that meeting with Ms. Martínez and Billings, I need a stiff drink or a piece of Gram’s pie; and pie is better for me.
I wander toward the back of the house and find both my grandparents in their living room, watching Sons of Anarchy. Gramps used to ride a motorcycle and imagines himself to be a hard-core biker.
“Hey, Gram. Gramps.”
“Connor,” they chorus. Gramps jumps to his feet, spry for his eighty-three years. He pulls me into a hug and squeezes me tight, causing a lump in my throat. I don’t see these two enough and I feel guilty about it. I should try to remedy that soon.
Gramps lets me loose and I turn to Gram. I hug her tight and then swing her around in a circle. She giggles like a schoolgirl and kisses me on the cheek when I set her
down.
“Let me guess, you came for the pie,” Grandpa cuts to the heart of the matter.
“I can’t lie. Gram’s pie did factor in to this surprise visit. But you can hardly blame me. You’re the one who dangled that info in front of my face by telling me she was making some in the first place.”
“Let’s go to the kitchen. We have vanilla ice cream too.” Gramps winks and the three of us amble along the hallway. He flicks on the lights, revealing the huge chef’s kitchen that Gram still works her magic in.
“Have a seat and fill your grandmother in on your love life while I take care of this.” He gestures to the pie.
“Love life,” I scoff. “I’d need to have one before I can talk about it.”
“I have a hard time believing my handsome grandson is lacking female attention.” Gram shakes her head.
“I’m not lacking for female attention, I just don’t have a special someone.”
“I understand. You have special someones.” She whacks her palm on the table and laughs.
“Gram, I’m a little weirded out that you know how college guys think.”
She waves her hand between us. “Please. You young ones always think that you do everything better than anyone before you. You should talk to your grandfather about his college years. He was a man whore like no other.”
Gramps chuckles as he takes the pie from the microwave. “I was.” He nods proudly.
“So what changed all that for you? Obviously, you settled down with Gram. Is she the reason you gave up your philandering ways?”
“She is. You know a good woman is worth it, though. I’ve never regretted my choice to be with your gram. We fit together like missing puzzle pieces in every way. If you know what I mean.”
I laugh. “I’m pretty sure I know what you mean.” His words make me think of Harper and I’m not sure why. We’ve never even shared a kiss, yet it feels like we’re somehow connected.
“You look like you’re a million miles away, Junior,” Gram observes.
