Page 18 of The Wrong Quarterback

The Davis family had a curse. Or at least they liked to think that they did. Our male family members tended to beone look and that’s allkind of people. When they found “the one,” that was it.

I hadn’t believed that it was true—it couldn’t be true.

Holy shit.

It couldn’t be true…

I swallowed hard, my dick feeling like it had become a giant trouser snake in my jeans. It felt like I had been knocked on my head. Like I’d become someone else. I reached down and tried to adjust my dick, but of course that got the attention of the front row because the fucking desk I was sitting at didn’t have any protection.

A redhead literally licked her lips at me, and I flinched like I’d been shot, my gaze jerking back to the beauty in the back because suddenly any girl’s attention but hers felt unacceptable.

Alright, Parker. Get your shit together.I stared down at the paper, the words spinning in front of me. A few deep breaths. Nope. That wasn’t helping either.

I had to look at her again.

Like she had a magnet attached to her head, my gaze went to hers.

Fuck. She was looking at me.

Something sparked to life inside me. Like I’d had a dead heart all along, and now it was finally beating.

Because of her.

Was this what giddy felt like? Or was I just about to faint? It felt like the same thing at the moment.

The thud of Professor Hendrick dropping a thick stack of syllabi on the desk had me reluctantly drawing my attention away from the angel I’d just found. The professor’s gaze swept the room like she was already disappointed in what she was seeing, and I was a little miffed at the attitude she was giving right then. She had a goddess in her class. She should be behaving accordingly.

“Welcome to History of the Roman Empire,” she began, her voice sharp and clear. “If you’re here for an easy ride, you might as well leave now.”

I glanced frantically at the girl, making sure she wasn’t taking that sentence literally. It would be a little embarrassing if I had to jump out of my seat and run after her.

A few students shuffled uncomfortably, but she stayed put.

Thank fuck. I forced myself to focus on Professor Hendrick again. For a second. But then my eyes were drifting once again to…her name. What the fuck was her name?

I frantically pulled out the class roster, but of course it didn’t have pictures on it. Where was that one? Probably in some email I hadn’t bothered to open because before this moment I couldn’t have cared less what any of these students’ names were.Professor Hendrick frowned at me, probably because I looked as crazy as I was feeling inside. Was I sweating? Yep, I was sweating. My heart was also trying to escape my chest. Maybe I was having a heart attack. This girl was actually making my body have a physical reaction.

Breathe in, breathe out, I coached myself. I wouldn’t pull up her picture right now. I could survive without her name for another half an hour.

Maybe.

Professor Hendrick started rattling off dates and expectations. Something about midterms, paper deadlines, whatever. I got lost in the way the girl was tapping her fingers on the side of her laptop, like she had a rhythm in her head that only she could hear. It was way more captivating than whatever my boss was saying.

“Mr. Davis, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class as our teaching assistant?”

I blinked, and it may have taken me a whole moment to remember thatIwas Mr. Davis. She was talking to me. Everyone’s eyes were on me as they waited for me to regain the ability to form words—something I’d never had trouble with before. I stood up, clearing my throat as I glanced at Professor Hendrick. She raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed into a line that said she was unimpressed.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, sounding like a complete idiot. “I’m Parker Davis. I’m…the teaching assistant for this course.” My gaze flickered back to the girl for a second before I forced them away, focusing on the back wall. “My, uh, office hours are posted…somewhere.” A few chuckles scattered through the room, and my gaze snapped over to see if she was laughing at me too.

She wasn’t even looking at me, though. She was staring at her desk, like it held the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. Fuck. This was the worst first impression ever.

Professor Hendrick’s frown deepened, but she said nothing, waiting. I took a deep breath, trying to piece together the basics. “You can find me in the department office on Wednesday mornings if you need help with, um, essays or questions. I’m here to assist with anything…related to the class.”

Good thing I’d at least been able to remember the “related to the class” part of the speech. Although that wouldn’t stop the line outside my office from forming with people who wanted help with…other things.

My gaze drifted to her again. Wishing there was some way to tell her that she wasn’t included in that provision. I would help her with anything…literally anything.

I would soon be helping her witheverythingas a matter of fact.

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