I got to our tutoring session first, making my way into the office and attempting to get comfortable before Chance arrived. I scanned the area like a hawk, spotting him before he saw me. I noticed the way other girls reacted to him, their heads craning in his direction, phones up to sneak pics as they whispered to their friends. Chance gave it zero attention as he walked through the library, his eyes on the phone in his hand.
I looked forward to this singular day all week. And then dreaded the second it ended. God, I was so messed up.
“Hey,” I said as the door pushed open, and he sauntered inside. It took everything in me to stay seated instead of standing up to greet him with a hug.
“Hey yourself.”
I knew that he missed seeing me as much as I missed seeing him, and I should have hated myself for how good that made me feel.
“Has the professor updated your grade yet?”
“Not yet, but I keep hitting refresh,” he said as he moved to sit down in the chair next to mine instead of our usual as far apart as possible routine.
We were waiting on his math grade to reflect his latest test results. Once we had that information, we could formulate a plan of attack for his final.
“How do you think you did?”
“Passed, but not sure by how much,” he said, sounding a little less than confident.
“You’ve passed every other test this semester so far, so I’m sure you did better than you think,” I attempted to reassure him.
“This one was harder though,” he added, his green eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights.
“I know, but hey, you’re almost done.” I smiled because this semester would be over in a few weeks. I’d go home to New York for break, and Chance would stay here.
He pressed a few buttons on his phone, and his face lit up. “It refreshed.”
“And? What does it say?”
“C-plus.” He grinned like he’d never been prouder, and it amazed me how excited he was for such an average grade. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his dimple in full effect. “I am totally passing this class!”
“Don’t you want to get an A? Or at least a B?” I teased, and his smile turned into a full-fledged smirk.
“No. I just wanted to pass. And now, no matter what, I will. I’m eligible to play this year, and it’s all because of you.” He threw a fist in the air in triumph, his happiness infectious.
At this point, even if Chance failed his final, he’d still get a C in the class overall, which qualified as a passing grade.
“You did all the work.”
“Yeah, but you made it easy to understand.”
“I’m just glad I could help.” I sucked in a breath and put my thoughts in order. “You don’t need me anymore. Class is almost done, and like you said, you’ll pass, no matter what now.”
“What are you saying?” His smile dropped instantly.
“That we should probably stop the sessions altogether,” I suggested, swallowing around the lump in my throat.
“If that’s what you want,” he said before adding, “But it’s not what I want. Just so we’re clear.”
“I know. That’s why we need to.”
He seemed conflicted, like he was stopping himself from saying whatever it was that he was thinking. Chance closed the space between us as he stood up, reached for my hand, and pulled me to my feet. He wrapped me in his arms and spun me around. I got dizzy from the contact, not from the spinning.
Just as quickly as it had begun, the spinning ceased. He put me down, but we were still standing close, our toes touching, and his eyes focused on my lips. I watched them intensely, wondering if he would dare cross that line in public, knowing instinctively that he wouldn’t. Chance Carter was too composed, too in control.
“Let’s go celebrate at The Bar,” he suggested, and his breath fanned over me.
I felt myself stumble over my emotions. “Chance.”
“I know, but listen, we’re done tutoring for the semester. I’m passing the class, no matter what. That’s a win in my book. We deserve to celebrate, don’t you think?”
I hesitated for only a second, my better judgment creeping in before I slapped her back. “Let’s go.”
“Really?”
“Leave with me before I change my mind, Carter,” I played and watched as he grinned.
“Carter, huh?”
“I could have called you Hotshot.”
“Haven’t heard that one in a while, Little Spitfire,” he flirted.
And I knew that being alone with him and drinking would be a potentially explosive combination, but for whatever reason, I felt like playing with fire.
Chance pulled into the parking lot of The Bar, the local hangout for most of the students at Fullton State. I got momentarily nervous and questioned my decision before Chance called me out on it.
“Nervous?” he asked, and I let out a shaky breath before unbuckling my seat belt.
“A little bit,” I admitted.
“About what? Seeing someone you know? Running into your boyfriend?”
Shaking my head, I responded, “No. Just that being in public with you means that my every move is tracked somehow. Someone is always watching.”
“It’s true. Did you tell Jared you were going out with me?” he asked, and I knew it was only because of how I’d handled things the last time we did something alone.
“I did.”
I had sent Jared a text from the car to let him know I was going to grab a drink with Chance to celebrate him passing the class and that I’d text him as soon as I got back home. His jealousy seemed to have pretty much disappeared overnight, so I figured that my going would be a nonissue.
I had no way of knowing how wrong I was.
Her Boyfriend is Still a Dick
Chance
We walked inside, and I was thankful that The Bar wasn’t packed like it had the potential to be, even during a weeknight. I’d checked online earlier to make sure that no live bands were scheduled to perform; otherwise, I would have taken her somewhere else. Yeah, I’d planned on asking Danika to go out with me tonight, even before I knew that we had a reason to celebrate. I’d assumed my passing grade would show up during our tutoring session at some point, and I had hoped to use it to my advantage.
Not that I was trying to do anything. I just … fuck … I missed her and wanted to spend time with her before she left for winter break. Plus, once my season started, I’d be way too busy to find excuses to hang out with her. And now that she had called off the rest of our tutoring sessions for the semester, who knew if I’d ever see her again? The thought crashed into me, and I swore my heart fucking sank lower inside my chest. The idea of never seeing Danika again after tonight sucked. But that was a very real possibility.
I headed toward the most secluded high-top table in the back corner and planted myself there. Danika sat next to me instead of across from me, and the temptation to reach out and touch her was almost too much.
“I was just thinking about break,” I started to say as she leaned closer toward me so that I wouldn’t have to shout above the ruckus.
“What about it?”
“Do you go home the whole time?”