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Teaching Tucker (Face-Off Legacy Book 3)

Page 9

by Jillian Quinn

“And?” I still don’t get it.

  “You could shock her by learning about the books. It would give you something to talk about other than the past.”

  “Is that what you did with Jemma?”

  He shrugs. “It’s easier with Jemma. We just click, but you’re at a disadvantage. This girl likes books. She’s smart, obviously, and you’re a fucking idiot who won’t even open a book to pass a class on your own.”

  “Hey, I passed Business Law last semester on my own, I’ll have you know.”

  “Barely,” he growls. “A C- isn’t something to brag about.”

  “Still a passing grade at Strick U,” I remind him.

  “Have you ever considered what you’ll do if you don’t make it pro? You need a backup plan, Tuck.”

  I laugh. “Like you have one.”

  “I do,” he challenges. “I have straight As. I’m graduating with honors. So are Preston and Jamie. Even Drake is doing more than just passing, and he’s as hopeless as you.”

  “Fine,” I grunt. “I’ll learn about this Harry Potter shit.”

  His phone rings, and he ignores me to answer the message.

  My brother is right. Everyone in my life is on point about me. For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of becoming a professional hockey player like my dad. Nothing else mattered to me. It still doesn’t. And therein lies the problem, I guess.

  I swivel the chair back toward the computer screen and start doing my research. If I’m going to impress Sam, I need to put in the work, starting with her.

  After class ends, Professor Frazier exits the room through the side entrance leaving Sam at the front by herself. I wait in my seat until students shuffle into the hallway before making my way down the center aisle toward her. She shifts in her chair, pen clasped in hand, hair tucked behind her ears. I hate that she pretends I don’t exist. It drives me crazy which makes me want her even more.

  “Tom Marvolo Riddle…” I say, which catches her attention. Sam looks up at me, and I finish, “… is the Heir of Slytherin.”

  “Lord Voldemort is my favorite villain ever written.” She smiles, a real one for once because she knows I’m talking about her screen name. “You’re a Harry Potter fan, too?”

  I’m whatever you want me to be.

  “Yeah,” I lie. “Huge Potterhead. Don’t look so surprised.”

  “I didn’t think you even opened books let alone read them.”

  More like Googled them.

  I still need to watch the movies. Otherwise, at some point she’ll know I’m full of shit. Which is why I have a plan for tomorrow. I have her attention now, and this time for the right reason. So, I need to keep going.

  I drop my bag on her desk and press my hands to the wood, our mouths inches apart. This time she doesn’t slide her chair back. She focuses on my lips, and when she does, I roll my tongue across my bottom lip.

  “Give me a chance,” I say. “I might surprise you.”

  Her eyes shift to the back of the room for a second. “I already gave you a chance.”

  “That was years ago. Under different circumstances.”

  She chuckles. “And you think things are different between us now because you like the same books as me? That doesn’t change the past. I know better than anyone that people don’t change.”

  “You’re wrong,” I counter, unzipping my bag.

  Her eyes widen as I produce a green Slytherin coffee mug holding it out for Sam to take. I bought it online hoping she likes coffee. It’s nothing big, a small gesture to show her I’m not a complete asshole and that I’m making an effort.

  She looks confused. “Is this for me?”

  I nod and set it in front of her on the desk. She touches the top of the box, her fingers carefully grazing the packaging.

  She sighs. “I’m sorry, I can’t, Tucker.” Sam pushes the box toward me. “Even if wanted to, I’m not allowed to accept a gift from a student. It would violate the University’s policy.”

  “Then don’t look at it as a gift from a student, think of it as one from a… friend.”

  Her eyebrows rise slightly, a smirk slowly forming on her lips. “In what universe would we ever be friends?”

  “There’s a double feature tomorrow night at the SAC,” I say. “I saw a poster about it earlier. They’re showing The Sorcerer’s Stone and The Chamber of Secrets back-to-back if you want to go with me.”

  She stares at me, her expression unreadable. “You want me to go with you as a friend?”

  “Yeah.” I push the mug back in front of her, and she glances down at it. “Friends are allowed to give each other presents.”

  She peeks up at me still unsure if I’m full of shit. I don’t blame her. Most of the time, I am. This time, though, I’m serious. I did my homework on Harry Potter for a reason—to prove to Sam I’m not an asshole and to prove to everyone there’s more to Tucker Kane than hockey.

  “Fine.” She grips the mug in her right hand. “I’ll go with you tomorrow. But as friends. Nothing more.”

  I hold my hands up. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  She smiles. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sam

  Standing in front of the mirror, I fix my hair one last time trying to ignore my shaky hands. I’m so nervous about my non-date with Tucker.

  Eden appears in the doorway to my bedroom. “You look good.”

  I laugh, tugging at the seam of my Harry Potter shirt that says Books turn Muggles into Wizards. “Not dressed like this.”

  “He’s not going to care about what shirt you’re wearing. When he sees you, he’ll be thinking about how it will look on his floor instead.”

  A wave of anxiety washes over me when I think about anything more than sitting next to Tucker to watch a movie. “Maybe I should stay home. This is a bad idea, right?”

  She steps into the room and presses her hands on my shoulders, glancing at me through the mirror. “Don’t be such a coward, Sam. You can do this. Think of the big picture.” Eden hugs me from behind, wrapping me in her warmth. “You’re my best friend, Sam. And the most difficult person I’ve ever known. Just go with the flow for once. You have the upper hand this time, remember that. We always have it as long as these idiots on campus keep doing dumb shit. And Tucker is the king. Getting closer to him will give us an even bigger advantage.”

  I nod, now realizing what she means. “Good point. The closer I get, the more we’ll learn about all of them.”

  Our secret, one no one knows, has helped pay a portion of our tuition. We’ve both been using our investigative journalism skills since the beginning of the semester to earn side cash. Eden dated the president of Delta Sigma Phi for the sole purpose of gaining easy access to his fraternity brothers.

  And I’m like a wraith, in and out without anyone noticing I exist. That’s the beauty of being an average girl, heads aren’t turning when I walk into a room. When we were approached by her, neither of us could turn down the offer.

  “She’s going to want details about your date with Tucker,” Eden says. “Pump him for as much info as you can get.”

  I flash a wicked grin. “Easy.”

  Crowded doesn’t even begin to cover the current situation in the SAC. I scan the large, open room on the top floor in search of Tucker. He’s well over six feet tall and not hard to spot most days. But not tonight. I’m too short, the guys around me towering over me, making it hard for me to see past them.

  Standing on my tippy toes, I take another look, startled when strong hands wrap around my middle. I know it’s him before my feet hit the floor. His scent, clean linen and spicy aftershave fill my nostrils. Tucker always smells so damn good.

  “Looking for me,” he says against the shell of my ear.

  My body responds to his touch instantly, his deep voice hardening my nipples. I can’t deny the effect he has on me. What I felt for him years ago hasn’t faded with time. If anything, knowing what it’s like to be with Tucker only
makes me want him more.

  But I can’t.

  I won’t.

  This isn’t right.

  I shouldn’t even be here with him.

  And yet, I am.

  I suck in a deep breath, nerves shaking through my body as I peel Tucker’s hands from my waist and spin around to face him. “You showed. I’m shocked.”

  “Don’t be,” he growls.

  “You promised to behave yourself.”

  He laughs. “I am.”

  “No more touching.” I move my hands to my hips while giving him my best resting bitch face, so he knows I mean business.

  His eyes follow my hands and rake over my breasts before he meets my gaze once more. “You got it, boss.” A lopsided smile crosses his lips. “No touching.”

  “Friends,” I remind him.

  He nods and then threads his fingers between mine leading me deeper into the room. Tucker couldn’t even make it two seconds before he broke the rules. With his skin brushing against mine, it’s harder to fight him. A wave of heat travels up my arms igniting a fire inside me. I’m angry with myself because I like the way he feels, and how he makes me feel in this moment.

  A massive projection screen is on the wall in the front of the room paused on the opening credits of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Tucker releases his grip on my fingers, and I miss his heat the second it’s gone. But I’m also relieved because we’re in public where students in my class can see us holding hands. One complaint to Professor Frazier, especially after my previous warning, could cost me a job.

  Tucker bends down to speak to the group of guys and girls in the front row. They lift their bags, blankets, and food sliding to the right to make room for us on the floor. We’re at the dead center of the screen, our view completely unobstructed.

  Everyone caters to Tucker. This is why he expects me to grade him on a curve. No one has ever told him, no. Well, he can kiss my ass. There’s no way in hell I’ll go easy on him. I meant what I said to him.

  We sit with our legs crossed on the carpeted floor staring up at the screen in silence. I have no idea what to say, he doesn’t strike me as the Harry Potter loving type. I would have guessed comic book movies.

  I tap Tucker on the knee to catch his attention, now aware I broke my own rule. Oops. “Which book is your favorite?”

  He gives me a blank stare. “What’s yours?”

  His expression hasn’t changed.

  Does he even know what I’m talking about?

  “Hmm… I mean I love The Deathly Hallows because it’s the book that ties everything together and wraps up the story, but I think my favorite is The Goblet of Fire. I love the competition aspect of the book.”

  Another confused stare from Tucker. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “Right, I feel the same way.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “I guess Hollows,” he says, using the wrong word.

  I think of Hermione, my favorite character from the books and can hear her voice in my head saying it’s hallows, not hollows, reminded of when she corrected Ron about the correct use of leviosa, something any Harry Potter fan would know.

  Asshole. He sure as hell had me fooled.

  “You will do anything to pass the class, won’t you?”

  His eyebrows rise in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know anything about Harry Potter.”

  Instead of replying, he laughs, using the awkward pause between us to concoct his next lie. “Not true. I love Harry Potter.”

  “Okay, then answer this question. Which of the Weasley brothers dies?”

  “Umm… Harry.”

  I shake my head unable to contain my laughter. “Fred. Oh my God, I can’t believe you, Tucker. Did you pretend to like the same things as me to get in my pants or to con your way into an A?”

  “Both,” he admits.

  “Unbelievable,” I grunt.

  Ready to leave, I press my palms to the floor, but Tucker grabs my arm. He tightens his grip to hold me in place. Our eyes meet, and when they do, I can’t breathe. I’m angry, frustrated, upset, and in no mood to deal with him anymore.

  “I’m sorry, Sam.” His baby blues burn a hole through me. “I was only trying to show you that I’m making an effort.”

  “Why lie, though? It wasn’t necessary.”

  “I Googled a few things after my brother pointed out that your screen name has to do with Harry Potter. I honestly had no idea until he told me. I’ve never seen a single movie or read any of the books.”

  I snort. “Obviously.”

  “But I’d like to watch them with you.” He points at the projection screen. “So, don’t leave.”

  His words cut deep hitting me right where it hurts. I’m so used to men giving up on me that I don’t even know what to do with one who wants to spend time with me. Maybe I’ve been focusing too much on the past. If he’s for real, then I can at least sit through a movie with him, and then decide from there if I want to bother with him after tonight.

  “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay. Consider this your last chance. It’s the only one you’ll get from me.”

  A smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “You won’t regret it.”

  Over an hour into the movie, my ass goes numb from sitting on the hard floor. I rock back and forth, and when that doesn’t work, I stretch out my legs and lean back, using my palms to support my weight.

  Tucker brushes his lips along my ear, the heat from his breath sending chills down my spine. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say, in a hushed tone. “Just need to move around a little bit.”

  He sits back and pats his chest. “You can lean on me if you want. Get comfortable.”

  Even in the darkness, I can see the cocky smirk on his lips. He’s such an ass. He’ll use any opportunity to touch me. So, why am I taking him up on his offer?

  I curl up next to Tucker, and he hooks his arm around my back pulling me into his chest. It’s as hard as a rock, chiseled to perfection. So are his arms. Holy shit, his biceps are massive. Now, my body is even more aware of him. All of him. And I can’t stop thinking about Tucker in inappropriate ways.

  We stay this way until the person next to Tucker spills their drink on the floor in front of us. I squeal without meaning to be so loud. Tucker bears the brunt of it, moving me to the side as the liquid splashes his jeans and sneakers. The girl on his right offers him her blanket to dry off.

  Tucker dabs at the soda on his jeans and sneakers and sighs. “I need to wash my hands,” he tells me. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll go with you. I can use the walk. My legs are killing me.”

  He holds out his hand for me to take, his fingers intertwining with mine. I hate that I’m starting to like the feel of his skin against mine.

  This is bad.

  I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way.

  But I ignore the warnings sounding off in my head like missiles firing and allow him to lead me into the hallway.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tucker

  My date with Sam is not going according to plan. First, she discovers my lie, and then one of the guys on the football team spills soda all over me. I’m having no luck lately not even with women.

  Ever since Sam came back into my life, it’s like the universe is trying to tell me something. I can’t seem to catch a break. She hates me. Then, she likes me. And now, I have no idea what she thinks of me.

  Why do I even care?

  Because you like her, jackass.

  She’s smart, beautiful, and probably one of the most infuriating women I’ve ever dealt with. But I can’t ignore how much I like her. How much I want to be around her.

  After I wash the soda off my hands, I meet Sam in the hallway. Standing with her back against the wall, her right foot kicked up against the brick, Sam toys with the seam of her Harry Potter shirt. She looks deep in thought, her eyes pointed down at her feet. But she
looks peaceful.

  Approaching her, a smile stretches across my face. “You ready to head back?”

  She glances up at me, the edge of her shirt twisted between her fingers. For a second, she holds my gaze as if searching for something in my eyes. We stand there, frozen in time, staring at each other.

  What is it about this girl that pulls me to her?

  And why didn’t I see it years ago?

  I hold out my palm to her, and she stares at it, unsure if she wants to cross the line. We both want to step over the invisible barrier that should separate us. But the line is thinning by the second. She’s technically my teacher, and I am her student who’s about to fail another class if she doesn’t help me.

  Apprehensive, she places her hand in mine, and my fingers curl around hers stroking her soft skin. She peeks up at me and bites her bottom lip. It’s playful, most likely not done on purpose, but it lights a fire inside me. A simple gesture that sends my body into overdrive.

  Without thinking, I push her back against the wall, my other hand still holding hers.

  Acknowledgment sparks in her eyes when I clutch her shoulder tighter, pulling her to me. Our mouths are inches apart, the tension between us burning like a match.

  “What are you doing, Tucker?” The words are a whisper on her lips.

  “I’m going to kiss you.” I brush my lips against hers, and she stills, her lips slightly parted to allow me entrance.

  “I don’t recall inviting you to kiss me,” she challenges, her tone soft and playful. Her lips move against mine from the smile on them.

  Moving my hand from her shoulder to her jaw, I cup the side of her face and look into her eyes. “I’m not asking for permission.”

  Before she can protest, I push my tongue into her mouth, and she matches my pace, our tongues tangling in harmony. My skin pricks with heat, the dangerous flames crawling up my arms. I’m consumed by her, each of her kisses like a drug. I need more, taking what I need from her. And she’s more than happy to give it to me.

  As she threads her arms around my neck, she hooks her leg around me, her heel digging into my ass. She moans into my mouth. I growl into hers like a ravenous beast who wants to devour her. It doesn’t matter that we’re in the middle of the SAC where I can hear voices moving toward us.

 

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