“You said you didn’t have anyone today.” He gave me an inquisitive look as he moved to the bed, sat down, and patted the empty spot next to him.
I sat down, and he threw his arm around me, pulling my head against his shoulder.
“I didn’t. But they called me this morning, begging for my help.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, kissing the top of my head, his demeanor softening. “Who’s it for?”
“Chance Carter,” I tried to say his name with no emotional attachment whatsoever, but my body betrayed me. Just saying his name out loud made it spring to life.
Jared pulled away, so he could look me in the eyes. “The baseball player?” He was not happy.
“Yeah.” Is there any other? I thought to myself but didn’t dare say it out loud.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” I argued, my defensive nature prickling. I did not like being told what to do. By anyone.
“I thought you were done tutoring guys. I don’t want you to tutor him.”
“Well, it’s not really up to you.”
“Are you joking, Danika? Don’t you remember what happened before?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.
I immediately felt bad when I realized that he was concerned for my safety after the whole football-player incident.
Jared had been pissed when I finally confessed what had been going on. I had tried to keep it all to myself, not wanting to create any more of a scene or involve anyone in the drama I’d wrongfully assumed I could handle on my own. When I realized that I couldn’t, I told Jared everything, and I wasn’t sure if he was angrier with the actual player or with himself for not being able to protect me and keep me safe. But the worst part of all was that Jared called my father.
Things between Jared and I changed after that. A part of me stopped trusting him in a way. And maybe it was immature of me to punish him for doing what he’d believed was the right thing, but I felt betrayed by his decision. I’d specifically asked him not to bring my dad into it, and he had done it anyway. Jared knew that telling him about the footballer stalking would only make him flip out.
And it did. I was forced to convince my father to let me stay and finish school here at Fullton State when he was ready to put a mob hit out on the player and drag my ass home to the “proper” coast before anyone could even notice the guy was missing. His words, not mine.
Jared changed after the incident too. He started acting differently. Like more of a bodyguard and less of a boyfriend. To be honest, I thought it was kind of hot at first, the way he wanted to protect me like some alpha Manhattan knight in shining armor, but my feelings eventually shifted. He grew too overprotective and started treating me like I was his job, his responsibility … his property. And I felt like a prisoner.
We had eventually found common ground, but things between us never truly got back on track. Not the way they used to be. I compared it in my mind to being on a waterslide: we were on the ride, but a little too much friction or a little too much water, and there was a good chance we were going to fly right off the side and pummel toward the ground.
“Chance isn’t like that. He was pissed that I was a girl in the first place. You have nothing to worry about.”
His body tensed. “Why was he pissed?”
“Because girls are crazy when it comes to him. I don’t know. He didn’t even want me there.” I pushed to a stand and started pacing before stopping.
“But now, he does? Now, he wants you there?” Jared’s dark brown eyes watched me, measuring my words against whatever was going on in his mind.
“Well, we came to an agreement,” I admitted with hesitation. “I was his only choice, and he needs to pass the class.”
Jared shook his head, his black hair flopping into his eyes. He really needed a haircut. “I don’t like it.”
“He knows I have a boyfriend.” I hoped my words would reassure him that he had nothing to worry about. “And he’s only interested in passing the class.”
“That’s what they all say.” He lay back on his bed and pulled a pillow over his face.
I’d just gotten over here, but I already wanted to leave. I pulled out my phone from my back pocket and started texting Sunny, asking if she could come get me, right as Jared’s hand gripped my wrist, the pillow that had been covering his face now falling to the floor.
“Stay.” He gave me a look that spelled out exactly what would happen next if I did as he’d asked.
We’d kiss, he’d grab my hand and move it toward the bulge in his pants—why do guys do that, by the way?—we’d eventually wind up naked, and then it would end … with only one of us satisfied, exclaiming how amazing it was or how badly they’d needed that.
Hint: that person was not usually me.
“I have a lot of stuff to go over and prep for. I should go home, so I can get started,” I lied, bracing for at least some sort of argument from Jared. Not only because he had been raised in the same place I was and we didn’t give in without a fight, but also because I could stay and do my work here. I didn’t need to leave, and we both knew it.
“Fine. Go home then.” He flicked his wrist in a wave before staring up at his ceiling.
I stood there, momentarily shocked, as I fought back the sick laugh lodged in my throat. Jared had just dismissed me like I was an annoyance. And instead of feeling angry about it, I actually felt relieved.
That can’t be a good sign.
Tutor Girl
Chance
My “new friend” had left the tutoring center before I could even ask for her number. That was what friends did, right? They exchanged phone numbers and sent each other text messages of kittens doing funny stuff and shit. Part of me thought she had done it on purpose—escaped before I gave her a reason to stay. Any reason. She had done us both a favor by leaving. The last thing I needed was to start thinking about her the way I already was.
Thank God she has a boyfriend.
That fact alone made it easier for me to keep my distance. I wasn’t the type of guy who poached on someone else’s girl. Hell, I wasn’t the kind of guy who poached on any fucking girl, but here I was, thanking God she was taken so I could put the possibility of having her out of my mind. At least, that was what I tried to convince myself of as I loaded up my bag and drove back home.
I parked my Bronco in the driveway and headed toward the door of the baseball house before noticing Mac sitting on the front step, drinking something out of a glass bottle.
“Are you waiting for me?”
“Maybe.” He looked up and winked.
“Stop being weird,” I complained before sitting down next to him and taking the bottle out of his hand. I almost took a swig but stopped myself before studying the label. Thankful I’d looked at it first. “Kombucha. Really? Ugh.”
“Don’t talk shit about my kombucha. It’s delicious.”
I rolled my eyes before shoving the bottle back into his hand, wanting it as far away from me as possible. “It tastes awful.”
“It does not. I love it,” he whined, almost offended, like he’d personally invented the nasty stuff.
“Shit almost killed me the first time I tried it,” I said, sounding like a complete pussy, but I had taken a giant gulp my first time and thought I was going to immediately puke in my car. I was lucky the stuff hadn’t sent me to the hospital for poisoning or something.