Page 34 of The Surprise Play
Time to change that.
With a determined nod, I pull out his desk chair only to find his laptop sitting on it.
“Sorry about the mess.” Wily clears the rest of the desk and helps me set up for our first official study session.
By the time I take a seat, my frazzled nerves are starting to settle as I get my head in the right space and figure out the best way to help this Nordic god smiling down at me.
It helps that he’s now wearing a shirt.
I can do this.
My heart may be racing every time my eyes skim any part of his body, but I’m a sensible woman. I can handle my attraction because I am not interested, nor will Ieverbe interested, in falling for some jock.
Even if he does look like Thor and smell like pure addiction.
CHAPTER 11
WILY
Tucking a lock of wet hair behind my ear, I walk over to the door, steeling myself for what’s to come. I fucking hate studying, and that look on Satch’s face is so unreadable. It’s obvious the mess in my room is too much for her, but I don’t even notice it.
I’ve always been a bit of a slob, but our housekeeper came three times a week back home, so it wasn’t too much of a problem. She kept things under control. But I don’t have one of those here, so my room gets a little out of hand sometimes.
All the time.
About once every six weeks or so, it all gets too much for Grady, and he yells at me until we can find the floor and then makes me vacuum and dust this entire space. I hate it, but I kind of need him to keep me in check, so I try not to let my anger show.
I’m good at keeping my emotions even—most of the time. I’m not a naturally angry guy. Not much bothersme, which is why my yell-fest at Satch was so surprising. I should probably apologize again.
Grabbing the door handle, I go to swing my door shut. “Hey, about the other day?—”
“Can you leave your door open, please?” Her voice is soft, and I glance across the room, surprised by the comment.
“Excuse me?”
“The door. I’d prefer you to leave it open.” She bites her lip, her round face flushing pink before she dips her chin and starts squeezing her index finger.
“O…kay.” I can’t help a confused frown. I thought she wanted a distraction-free study session.
Oh wait. Oh shit. Does she think I’m gonna make some kind of move on her?
“You don’t have to worry.” I walk away from the door. “I know this is a study session. I’m not gonna jump your bones or anything. Even though you did try to ask me out.”
She looks up with a gasp, and I wink at her when her cheeks flush an even darker red. “I did not try to?—”
“I’m only teasing,” I cut her off before she gets all flustered on me.
I take a seat with an easy grin, my eyes drifting down her body. She’s wearing a pleated skirt again. It looks homemade, and I wonder where she gets her clothes from. Maybe she’s really into sewing. Or maybe she shops at some kind of 1950s memorabilia store, because that shirt and cardigan combo looks like something my grandmother used to wear.
She squirms in her seat, tugging on her clothes, andit’s only then that I realize I must be making her uncomfortable.
I try for a smile, hoping to put her at ease, but her eyebrows dip into a soft frown and she clears her throat, pulling out a copy ofMoby Dickalong with her laptop and some handwritten notes.
Oh shit. Here we go.
Be grateful, dude. You might be able to graduate after all. Play this nice and don’t fuck it up.
“So, uh…” I clear my throat. “Thanks for helping me with this.”
