by Leila James
“You what?” His jaw twitches as he folds his arms across his puffed-out chest, legs spread in a dominant stance that I’m sure is meant to intimidate.
I sink my teeth into my lip so it’ll stop trembling and look him straight in the eye. “I wanted to say that it’s not a big deal.”
His brows raise, challenging me. “What’s not a big deal?”
“You … you needing some help. That’s all.” Why can’t I draw in a breath? I’m suffocating.
He steps closer and dips his head down toward mine. Minty breath from his toothpaste and the scent of his bodywash wafts off of his skin and right up my nose. Neither is unappealing. But the way he’s looking at me makes me want to run away and forget I ever said I’d help him.
His words hiss out quietly, for my ears only. “I don’t need a tutor. Just pretend like you’re doing it.” His eyes narrow on mine. They’re like a deep, dark pit, void of any feeling or emotion—at least none he wants to show me, anyway.
My chest heaves. “But if you want to play football, keeping your grades up is important, Micah.” Where’s the guy who Scarlett says has been kind to her? The one she now calls a friend?
His head tilts to the side as he comes even closer, until we are nose to nose. The front of his blazer brushes mine on our inhale. He’s so close I have the errant thought that if I had any boobs at all, they’d be smashed up against his abs. Alas, I’m lucky if I have an A cup, so …
“I’m not a fucking idiot, Daphne.” He slams his huge hand into the locker next to us, punctuating his words. My eyes widen as I flinch. “You’d do well to remember that, sweetheart.” Micah takes one last slow look at me as he backs up, and I feel his eyes roam from my head to my toes, touching me everywhere. I gather my book bag in front of me, staring back at him, confused as hell. Micah mumbles something under breath, shakes his head, and walks away.
Chapter 3
Later in Spanish, the only class I actually have with Micah, Señora Martinez has me helping groups of students with irregular preterite tense conjugations. There weren’t enough students interested in taking the Advanced Placement Spanish V class, so the guidance counselors ended up putting me into this Spanish II class. Señora Martinez said it would work just fine; she’d give me work to do on my own for independent study, we’d use the language lab in the library to supplement the written work, and I’d really be able to cement my knowledge of grammar by helping other students.
Not only is Micah in this class, but so are a few of the cheer bitches who’d given Scarlett issues the first six weeks of school. Up until now, he and his friends have pretty much ignored my presence. Not so today. The wary side-eye he keeps giving me tells me this is going to be super fun from here on out. And maybe painful. Especially if he decides he’d like to bite my head off for agreeing to be his tutor.
I mean, it’s not like I offered. They asked me. And what was I supposed to do? Say no? Even when I’d asked if I had a choice, I knew there wasn’t one. Not really.
With a sigh, I move to the group of students immediately to the left of where Micah is sitting and try to concentrate on the questions they have for me. As I shift around the table, I can hear Alora and Farrah whispering furiously at each other. I can only imagine what it’s about. I shake my head and move to the other side of the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Micah puts his hand on Alora’s thigh. He squeezes, effectively stopping her from continuing the conversation. My eyes are glued to his hand. I can’t look away. He slides it to her knee and drags the skirt out of the way so his hand is on her bare thigh. He glances over at me, his eyes hard.
I can’t tell whether he’s trying to tell me something or her. I don’t care what he does with his harem of girls. I wrench my gaze away but my traitorous eyes glance toward him again. He must outweigh me by well over one hundred pounds. He’s a solid wall of muscle. His hands … I can’t help but stare. They’re huge.
And the girls he dates. Or doesn’t date? I need to ask Scarlett to explain his deal to me again. If I have to work with him, I’d rather be well-informed. From what I understand, he has a small group of girls who are his “regulars.” Girls with the Micah stamp of approval. He doesn’t date them exactly, but he— I suck in a breath as a mental image of Micah pinning a faceless girl up against a wall and thrusting into her smacks me upside the head.
My eyes wander to the girls he’s sitting with. Alora is bad news. So is Farrah. The only one of the group of girls I usually see him with who is halfway decent is Danica, but honestly, I see her more with Beau. Strangely enough, he sleeps around with this same group of girls, too. I swear, what is it about these guys? Max has always told me to stay away from them. But now that I’m going to be forced to spend time with Micah, I guess it’s better to pay closer attention, just to get some idea of what to expect from him and the people he hangs out with. Sort of a proactive self-preservation thing.
I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had any interest in him.
I bite down on my lip.
With a wince, I release my lip and try to pull myself together. Color floods my face, shame filling me, when I realize my gaze has snapped right back over to him. Holy crap. I can’t stop. If he makes me so nervous, why can’t I stop looking at him? I used to think Micah was better than that, but the more I see, the more I think he’s not that different from the stereotypical, sex-crazed football players I’ve always avoided.
Walking to my desk at the back of the room, I catch some whispers between Kim and Beth, two girls who are on the cross-country team with Scarlett.
Kim’s hushed words are just loud enough to reach me. “Did you hear how Micah tackled Justin outside his house? Like, totally took him down.” She glances over at Micah, then ducks her head the second he looks over.
“Can you imagine him on top of you? Oh my God, I’d die.” Beth covers her mouth, stifling a laugh. “He’s so freaking hot.”
Kim whispers back, “And Beau—he was on top of Justin, too, helping restrain him.”
Beth makes a little moaning sound and pretends like she’s wiping drool from her chin. “That’s what, four-hundred-plus pounds of hunky football player? I’d kill to be in the middle of that man-sandwich.”
“But wait, what’s the whole deal with Scarlett? I heard she was drugged and they were going to like, kill her or something.” Kim shakes her head, only glancing back at me when I cough.
I don’t know if I should bother butting in, but I do. If there’s one thing I’ll always do, it’ll be to stand up for the select few who I call friends. I softly murmur, “You weren’t there, so don’t gossip about what happened.”
Beth shrugs, her voice at way more than a whisper now, getting the attention of the surrounding students. “Neither were you, smarty-pants.”
I mash my lips together, trying to stay silent, but I can’t. I blow out a breath before replying, “You’re right, I wasn’t. But what I know came directly from Scarlett.” I wet my lower lip and steal a glance at Micah.
He’s hard-core frowning at all three of us. Shit.
Apparently, Beth doesn’t know when to stop. “Micah, you were there. What happened? What did Justin do to her?”
His gravelly voice rasps, “If you were meant to know anything, Scarlett or Xander would have told you.”
Boom.
Beth’s face falls and shoulders hunch up in response to his clipped tone. She quickly turns back to her work.
I heave out a sigh of relief that the exchange is over. I tap my pencil on my desk, working through a bit more of the present subjunctive review Señora Martinez gave me to do on my own. After several seconds, I glance up in Micah’s direction to see him watching me.
A ghost of a smile teases at his lips before he nods ever so slightly at me and goes back to his work.
This ripple in his gruff behavior gives me pause. I frown, confused. There’s definitely more to Micah Robertson than meets the eye.
Chapter 4
The bell finally rings
after what feels like an eternity. Seeing Micah make his exit, I shove my notebook into my book bag as quickly as I can and follow him. I don’t know what possesses me, but it seemed like we shared a teeny tiny moment back there in class, and before Micah can get too far down the hall, I catch up, placing my hand on his bicep. A very big, very muscular bicep.
He twists around, a frown on his face, as if he can’t believe someone would deign to touch him.
“Micah, I just wanted to say—”
He yanks his arm free, surprising me. I step backward and stumble right into the lockers behind me. With nowhere to go, I’m forced to stay put while he takes two steps toward me, resting his hands on the lockers on either side of my head. He immediately ducks down to my eye level. “Look, Daphne, I told you I don’t need a fucking tutor. So, unless you need a fucking tutor, I suggest you back off. Why do you even care?”
I don’t miss the innuendo he slipped in there as his hard body easily cages me against the locker and his brows go up in silent question. Panic rises within me as he slides one leg forward between mine, causing me to gasp out loud. Students walk past us, not seeming to care that this very big guy is all up in my business. I swallow hard as I put my hands against his chest to keep him from coming closer.
Wow. My brain goes haywire as I feel the muscles under his blazer tighten. I take in a shaky breath before I look up into his angry eyes. “That wasn’t what I was going to say, but your coach and the headmaster think you do need help.”
His words rasp roughly from his throat. “Well, I don’t.”
“I think we should meet and find out. It’s important to get your grades up and stay on the team if you have any hope of a football scholarship. Or maybe it doesn’t matter? Daddy has plenty of money and can send you wherever you want to go?” I suck in a breath when I realize I’ve let my mouth blurt out everything I’ve been thinking. My fingers grip his blazer, effectively holding him close to me.
“Whatever. You don’t know anything about me.” He grits his teeth, looks to the side and then back into my eyes.
“You want to blow it all because you can’t accept some help? Fine by me.” I bite my lip and shove against his chest. He. Doesn’t. Budge. Shit.
With a quick glance around, I realize we are pretty much alone. Everyone has headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Oh my God …
Almost like it pisses him off that he wants to know, he growls, “What were you going to say before?”
I wet my lip, grabbing the focus of his eyes. He leans in closer, and I draw in shuddering breath as I blink up at him.
When I don’t answer immediately, he lifts my chin with his fingers. “Tell me.”
“I was going to thank you for helping Scarlett with the Justin situation. For being there when she needed you.” I swallow past the hard, thick lump in my throat.
“You don’t need to thank me because there was never any question of whether or not I would. Xander is like my brother. Scarlett is important to him, so by extension, she’s important to me.” His breathing is steady and even, like this isn’t affecting him at all. Those dark eyes of his search mine, but I don’t even know what he’s looking for.
Meanwhile, I’m freaking the eff out and want to shout in his face that I’m her friend, so maybe he could back up and let me breathe because I’m seriously about to wig out, trapped against his body like this. “Let me go.”
He gives me a twisted grin and chuckles. “Let go of my blazer.”
A beat passes before I mumble, “Oh.” Embarrassed, I force my fingers to relinquish their death grip on him. I wish I could sink right into the lockers behind me and disappear.
He dips his head, his cheek just millimeters from mine. “Are we clear? I don’t want you to tutor me. I don’t want your help.”
“But, Micah—”
Losing it, he jerks back and shouts in my face, “But nothing! Stop fucking pushing, Daphne!”
I squeeze my eyes shut, terrified at the anger in his voice.
“Whoa! What the hell is going on here?” Xander’s low voice rumbles out, and without even looking, I know he’s yanked Micah away from me. The second he’s not right in front of me anymore, I can feel it, as if his sudden absence were a breathing, living thing.
“Daphne.” I hear Scarlett’s voice, but it doesn’t register for a few moments that she’s talking to me. Frantic, she asks, “What the hell just happened?”
My eyes flicker open to see Xander hauling Micah down the hallway. Their voices are low, but I can just make it out when Xander murmurs, “What the fuck, man? That’s Scarlett’s best friend. Why would you yell at her like that?”
I have no fucking clue. I’m not sure he does either.
Chapter 5
Scarlett ushers me to a quiet corner. I look down at my shoes as she shoots one question after another at me. “What was that all about? Daphne, does this have something to do with the call from the headmaster this morning?” Then, without waiting for my response, “Would you breathe, please?”
I guess I’d been holding my breath because it all comes out in a whoosh. Bending forward, I plant my hands on my knees as she rubs my back. “Do we have to eat lunch in the cafeteria?”
“Nope. Lemme text Max and ask him to get three to-go lunches.”
While she pulls her phone out and leans back on the locker beside me to take care of it, I straighten and put my hands to my flaming-hot cheeks. “I don’t understand why he’s so mad,” I whisper.
She tugs on my elbow. “Come on, let’s go. Hopefully once you’ve had a chance to calm down you can explain things.” We hurry down the hallway, but instead of going through the cafeteria, we bolt out the side door and around the building until we get to a grassy area dotted with picnic benches.
Max looks up from where he’s unpacking our lunches. “I got a turkey and cheese, a ham and cheese, and a peanut butter and jelly.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
Scarlett sits down and, with a sigh, I throw my leg over the bench, sit, and slip the other leg over, joining her. “It doesn’t matter.”
Max laughs. “In all the time I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat peanut butter.”
I reach for the turkey and cheese. “You’re right.” I give him a small smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes.
He stops with his hand in his bag of chips, eyeing me carefully. “Daphne, Daphne. Don’t hold out on me. What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, I take a bite of the sandwich and slowly chew.
“She had a little … altercation with Micah after class just now.”
Max’s lips part. “Say what?”
I take another bite of my sandwich, shaking my head.
“When Xander and I got there, Micah had her up against a locker and was shouting in her face.”
“The fuck?” Max’s head rears back and his gaze darts from me to Scarlett. “Why was he in your face?” He stares at me while I uncap my water and take a swig.
Scarlett reaches out and grabs my left hand where it rests on the picnic table. “Explain what the hell was happening when we showed up. Because I’m about up to here with drama right now.” Her hand flies up to show me just how done she is.
Max rolls his eyes to the sky. “Fuck, you aren’t kidding.” He brings his attention back to me. “Talk, Daphne.”
I wipe my lips carefully with my napkin, taking a few seconds to decide how to put this. “The meeting with Gilmore this morning? When I got there, Micah was on the bench outside the office. I thought nothing of it until the headmaster called me into his office and Head Coach Roland was in there, too.”
“Uh-oh. I see where this is going.” Scarlett winces.
“Where? What am I missing?” Max’s brow furrows.
“They want me to tutor him.”
Max’s eyes shoot to his hairline. “Oh, wow.”
“They’re really worried about his grades that much?” Scarlett frowns, fiddling with her water bottle cap.
<
br /> I nod. “Yes. Apparently, he’s close to being benched over it.” I catch my lip with my teeth. “And he really doesn’t want me to help him. He keeps saying he doesn’t need a tutor.” I blow out a breath. “He was pretty pissed off when we left the office, and we had a few words. But then in Spanish some girls were talking about what went down with you this weekend, and he shut them down. I was going to thank him for having your back that night, but he thought I was going to pester him about the tutoring again and got all growly. So then I did pester him about the tutoring again, and he got really pissed. That’s when you showed up, Scarlett.”
Max grimaces. “Uh. I hate to ask how you’re going to deal with Big Man if he really doesn’t want help. I’ve never seen him do a fucking thing he didn’t want to.” He snickers. “Including that chick he lost to in strip poker last weekend.”
Scarlett kicks at his shin under the table.
“Ow!” He laughs some more.
She purses her lips. “You deserved that.”
“Come on, Max. Be serious. What should I do?” I tilt my head to the side, watching his face as he thinks over everything.
“That guy flusters you like nobody’s business. Granted, that’s not difficult to do with you. And that was before all this tutoring business.”
Scarlett narrows her eyes at me. “Why is that, anyway?”
My shoulders hunch up, my head drops back, and I stare up at the sky. “I don’t know.”
She takes a quick sip of water. “Do you two have a history or something?”
“No,” I lie. “I just started at Rosehaven last year.”
Max quirks up an eyebrow, and I’m almost positive he doesn’t buy what I’m selling, but he drops it, shooting me a confused look.
Scarlett nods toward my chips. “Don’t you want to finish eating?”
