Page 7 of Scoring Position

I’m spiraling.

As if he can sense my awkward discomfort, he resumes the conversation. “Hailey said you passed with flying colors and that you’d be the best option to ensure that I get through it.”

I nod my head. “Sorry. Yes, I took it and got an A. I had the same professor as you, and we used the same textbook. I kept my notes, so that’ll be helpful. There’s nothing in the school’s policy saying that you can’t study with them, as long as I’m not giving you test answers or doing your graded assignments for you.”

He sighs in relief. “Okay, good. I logged into the student portal a few days ago, hoping to find some direction, but it was just a bunch of posts showing what we needed to read and the work that was due for each chapter. Even the message boards were empty.”

That’s typical for an online course during the summer. Many times, they’re full of adults who are going back to school but want to do things on their own as opposed to working together like a lot of the younger students. These streamlined summer semester classes are not for the faint of heart. They’re fast-paced, and if you fall too far behind, you’re fucked.

“Were you able to finish the assignment?” I ask. When we talked on the phone, I could sense his frustration, so I’m guessing we’ll need to play catch-up.

“I did the first one, which was basically just a quiz with a bunch of personal questions. We didn’t have to turn it in, but we got credit for checking off that we had done it. The second one was on anatomy, and I started it, but kept losing focus. Then there was another one assigned today that I haven’t even had a chance to look at.”

I reach into my bag, pulling out the notebook I used when I took the course last year. Flipping to the page for the assignment he started—a quiz on the male and female sexual anatomy—I slide it across the table to him. “I can’t tell you the answers, but I will say that they’re all in here somewhere. Professor Stocktonallows open note testing, so this should get you through it. The next assignment is a short essay followed by another quiz, which we can work on tomorrow.”

He looks down, taking in the very poorly drawn diagrams on the paper. I’m a visual learner, so I had to draw a penis and a vagina with arrows pointing to the various parts. I should be mortified, but whatever. He’ll be thanking me when he sees how much this’ll help him through the stuff he’s fallen behind on.

“Nice cock,” he says with a smirk. “A little small, but not everyone’s blessed in that aspect, I guess.”

My face heats with embarrassment, and I raise my hands to my flushed cheeks, trying my best not to let my smile break free. “I guess not,” I reply quietly. “But I bet he has a great personality.” We stare at each other for a few seconds before we burst into a fit of laughter, unable to hold back any longer. He throws his head back, running his hands down his face with a groan before looking at me again and flashing a charming grin.

“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you, Sweets?” he says, and even though it shouldn’t, my stomach flips at the nickname. It’s not like I’m employed by the school, so there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun together while I tutor him, but I also need to remember that I’m newly divorced, and he’s ten years younger than me. The last thing he wants or needs is some older woman making eyes at him. He probably has a different girl for every night of the week anyway, but that’s a good thing. At least it’ll stop me from thinking inappropriate thoughts about him when I see a hot model on his arm.

“I’m worth every dime of that seven grand, Ace,” I reply with a smile. “If you listen to me, you’ll pass this class with no problem. I promise.”

He gives me a tight nod before leaning back in his chair. “That’s what I like to hear. As far as tomorrow goes, we’re heading to Cleveland for two games, and then we’ll be back toplay at home. If you’re available to start right away, I’ll get you a plane ticket and a room at the hotel we’re staying at. I’ve already let the team know that I’ll need you with me for the remainder of the semester, and they’re cool with it as long as I don’t get distracted. We can work on assignments after games, since that’s when I’ll have downtime. Sound good?”

“Let’s do it,” I say, cringing internally at my choice of words. “Yes, it sounds good.”

He arches a brow. “You said you’re divorced, but do I need to be aware of any jealous boyfriends before we do this? Or anyone who might need you to be here during the next seven-ish weeks?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “No. Definitely not. I’m single, and I moved to Florida for college, so I don’t have family here. I’m not really close to my parents right now because they hated my ex and didn’t want me to marry him. We’re working on it, but they certainly won’t be randomly asking me to come home for a visit, so I’m all yours until the semester ends.”

“Alright,” he says, standing and rounding the table before stopping in front of me and extending a hand. I assume he wants me to shake it, but when I slide my palm against his, he captures it with his thick fingers, pulling me to my feet. Not expecting it, I stumble into him, bringing my free hand to his chest to stop myself. He looks down at me, his breath hitching before his eyes go wide, and he breaks the connection by stepping back and releasing me.

I clear my throat, looking down at my feet to ground myself before painting on a professional smile. “Call me as soon as you have the ticket info, and I guess I’ll see you in Cleveland.”

“Looking forward to it, Lark.”

SIX

ACE

I pacethe floor of my hotel room, checking the clock for the fifteenth time. It’s five to eight, and Lark is supposed to be here to help me with my next assignment any minute. I’m so fucking nervous, although I’m not really even sure why. When we met yesterday, it started off well. I immediately noticed how hot she was with her long blonde hair and big blue eyes, but I stayed cool. We talked and laughed, and I even made a joke about the awful dick drawing in her notebook. But as soon as she fell into me when I pulled her up from her chair, everything inside me went haywire. Between her hand on my chest and the way she looked up at me like a deer in headlights as I towered over her—I felt things I’d never felt before.

I chalked it up to first meeting jitters, hoping that once we got to know each other a little better, I’d see her more as the girl who’s helping me with my schoolwork, and less as the sexy bombshell I want pressed against me.

I’veneverwanted to kiss someone as badly as I did yesterday at the stadium. My heart was racing behind my rib cage, and it felt nearly impossible to stop myself from pressing my lips tohers. It was all I could do to back away before I fucked everything up.

I can’t kiss my tutor. It’s not an option. First of all, I need her help. Making any kind of move on her, especially if she doesn’t feel what I felt yesterday, would have her running for the hills. Plus, she’s ten years older than me. I have no problem with the age gap, but I’m sure she wouldn’t be interested in someone who can barely warm his own SpaghettiOs without burning his fingers on the bowl.

When I called her with the details of her plane ticket, I couldn’t help but strike up a conversation. We talked for a bit—mostly about surface-level things—and I’m afraid to say that the urge to be near her and get to know her more only grew stronger. But I need to be realistic when it comes to Lark. She’s the key to passing my class, and that’s what’s most important to me right now. I can be attracted to her and not act like a horny fuckboy. Maybe we can even be friends. But we can’t, under any circumstances, kiss…no matter how much I want to taste those pouty pink lips.

I’m broken from my mental pep talk by a quiet knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, I shake out my arms, then rise to my full height before walking over and pulling it open. Lark stands on the other side with her arms piled full of supplies. Her golden hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and her face is completely free of makeup. I immediately notice the smattering of freckles across her nose, dragging my eyes down to her plump, gloss-coated lips.

“Hey,” I say, taking the items from her arms and stepping aside. “Come on in.” As she walks past, I try not to inhale deeply, but it’s a lost cause. As soon as her fruity perfume permeates the air around me, I take it in like it’s the last thing I’ll ever smell. My heart speeds up again, and I remind myself how ridiculous I’mbeing. I may not have a lot of experience beyond kissing, but I’m not a fumbling teenage virgin.

So why the fuck do I feel like one right now?

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