Page 50 of The Dating Coach
I reached over, taking her hand. "I want everything with you, Gemma. But only if you're sure. No pressure, no expectations. We can just—"
She squeezed my hand. "Liam?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking and drive faster."
I did.
Later, as we lay tangled in my sheets, Gemma traced lazy patterns on my chest. The house was quiet, our friends still at the bar.
"So," she said, voice drowsy with satisfaction, "that was..."
"Incredible? Mind-blowing? Worth the wait?" I suggested.
"I was going to say educational," she teased. "Very thorough demonstration of physical chemistry."
"Just wait until you see my lesson plan for biochemistry," I said, rolling her beneath me again.
Chapter 23: Gemma
"I need help with physics," I announced, standing in Liam's doorway on a Thursday evening, textbook clutched to my chest like armor.
He looked up from his architecture portfolio, one eyebrow raised. "You're not taking physics this semester."
"Next semester," I clarified, stepping into his room. "I like to prepare early. Get ahead of potential problems."
"Uh-huh." He said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, fighting a smile. "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you miss our tutoring sessions?"
"Don't be ridiculous," I said, even as heat crept up my neck. "This is purely academic. A business arrangement, if you will."
"A business arrangement," he repeated slowly. "Like our original deal?"
"Exactly like that." I set the physics book on his desk with unnecessary force. "You help me with science, I help you with... things."
"Things?" His smile widened. "What kind of things would those be?"
"Dating things," I said firmly, ignoring how ridiculous it sounded. "You clearly still need practice."
"Do I?" He stood, moving closer with that predatory grace that made my pulse skip. "What areas need improvement?"
"Well," I said, fidgeting with my hands, "your conversation skills could use work. You tend to get distracted easily."
"Distracted?" He smiled. "By what?"
"Various... things," I managed, very aware of how good he looked in that henley, how it stretched across his chest.
"Be specific," he murmured, his voice dropping lower. "I'm a very dedicated student. I need detailed feedback."
"You're mocking me," I accused.
"Never," he said solemnly, but his eyes danced with laughter. "I take my education very seriously. Now, about these dating skills I apparently lack..."
"Fine," I conceded, looking away to break the intensity of his gaze. "Maybe you don't need practice. But I do have that physics class next semester, and—"
"Gemma," he interrupted gently. "You don't need excuses to spend time with me. You know that, right?"
"I know. I just... This is new for me. Being with someone without a crisis to manage or a problem to solve. I don't know how to just... relax and be myself."
