Page 31 of Sin

I push him away from me. “It’s not a date. Cassidy is helping me with a class.”

“Really?” He runs a hand over the dark stubble on his chin. “Where are you meeting for yourtutoringsession?”

“Mezzaluna.”

“So, soulful music and candlelight. Probable had to bribe the maître d’ at least three hundred bucks to get a reservation?”

“Price of a good table at a good time,” I reply.

Mercer nods his head. “You’re right. Sounds like a tutoring session to me—except for the fact that you took calculus your freshman year at Thurston and passed it with no problem.”

“What can I say? I love their cacio e pepe.”

He shoots me a mischievous grin. “Maybe I’ll bring Devlin to Mezzaluna and we can crash your date.”

“Oh, that would be nice,” I answer his grin with an evil one of my own. “That way we could turn it into a double date.”

Mercer’s face goes red, and I know I hit a bullseye as intended. “Fuck you,” he says, shooting me the finger.

I laugh. “Don’t play the game unless you come to win.”

“Whatever,” he waves me off. “I’m outta here. I’m already ten minutes late to meet him.” He perks up. “At least that will piss him off.”

A wave of fondness for my friend rolls over me. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and we understand each other at a basic level. No room for judgment between us. You could say that both of us suffer from serious daddy issues, though they manifested in very different ways.

He walks off. “Mercer,” I call.

“What,” he calls back, “You need tips for your date?”

I let that barb slide, “If you want me to piss Devlin off tomorrow, I can be there.”

He lights up at that. “You’re my favorite asshole,” he yells before turning and hurrying in the direction of student parking.

“I don’t know if this is the best spot for a tutoring session,” Cassidy says from his place tucked against me in a circular booth in a private area of one of the hottest restaurants in town.

I disagree. I think it’s the perfect place. I know I should have staged this whole tutoring session on campus, but I savor being arm to arm, thigh to thigh, with him. Being able to breathe in his scent—grocery store soap mixed in with his natural body chemistry—surpassing the most expensive of fragrances.

I couldn’t resist taking him to Mezzaluna. It’s one of my favorite places and I want to share it with him. I’ve become addicted to showing him new experiences. Sharing his delight as he discovers new pleasures.

These “tutoring sessions” may have started as a way of keeping Tate Carmichael, a natural-born predator, far away from Cassidy, but I see no reason why I can’t also use them as a chance to enjoy Cassidy’s company.

Even a rich boy like me likes a two-for-one special.

“Sure it is.” I tug away the calculus book he’s holding against his chest like armor and place it on the table. Then I lean closer than a tutor and their student should really sit. Let alone two stepbrothers. “Go ahead. Teach me,” I challenge him.

“But you’re paying me for this,” he whispers.

I run a finger down the side of his cheek. “That makes it even more exciting.”

He desperately grabs for his water glass and gulps it down while I sip on my Barolo.

Having finally quenched his thirst, Cassidy looks up at me from under his long eyelashes. “We’re here so you don’t fail your calculus class. We at least need to tackle the basics tonight.”

I give in and let him teach me a subject that I mastered a long time ago, but somehow it’s not boring. Cassidy’s passion for teaching and genuine joy in sharing his knowledge leave me unable to look away from him as he diligently tries to build the foundation for me to understand calculus.

Of course, that could also be attributed to the dirty, dirty fantasies I spin as I watch him bite down on his plump bottom lip while he explains differentials to me.

“You’re doing really well,” he tells me after I effortlessly solve the practice problems he set out.

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