Page 9 of Tutored By the Smart Girl

The room has four tables set up with two chairs that face the front of the room. A computer, projector, and large screen next to a podium are at the front of the room.

I don’t need any of that. Today will be a one-on-one with each student to determine what I can do to help them.

I grab a chair and pull it to the opposite side of the table so I can be face-to-face with the students. I pull the recommendation sheets from my backpack and review the information about my upcoming appointment.

John Radcliffe, a junior who needs help in Calculus I. A student of Professor Griffith and recommended by Coach Chris Johnson.

Another football player. Great.

Last year I had a football player who struggled with writing a report for his Composition class. Talk about a colossal ego.That guy couldn’t stop talking about himself. He entered the football portal at the end of last season, so at least I won’t have to deal with him this year.

There’s a tap on the door.

“Come in,” I call.

The door opens and a towering hard body fills up the doorway as my charge enters the room. I gulp and my gaze moves from his dark eyes, the sexy scruff on his chin, the sharpness of his jaw, and down to his broad chest, and washboard abs I can appreciate even under that tight T-shirt he’s wearing.

Yummy. I could bounce a quarter off that stomach.

I blink several times and bring my imagination back to reality. Then it hits me and I recognize him immediately.

No. No, this can’t be happening.

Mr. McSexy.

From the party who got doused with a full cup of Benji’s beer.

That damn Benji.

Mr. McSexy rubs the back of his neck, and the look makes my ovaries rumble.

Does he recognize me?

“Oh, I think I have the wrong room. I’m looking for Adison Miller. Is he around?”

I can’t hold back a loud cackle. I take a deep breath just in time to prevent an embarrassing snort. I’ve been known to laugh and snort when I’m extremely amused.

Him?

McSexy raises his eyebrows. “What’s so funny? Do you know where he is?”

I motion him into the room and point to the chair in front of me, all while I try to hold in my laughter.

“I’m Adison Miller. Nice to meet you,” I choke out.

McSexy rubs the back of his neck again. “You’re not a dude.”

“Well, thanks for noticing.” I peruse my list of new students. “And you are?”

“Rush.”

“Excuse me? That’s your first name or your last name?”

“Sorry. Rush Radcliffe.”

“Your first name is Rush?”

He stands a little taller. “It is.” He looks at me with those brown eyes blazing into mine.

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