Page 5 of Private Tutoring
“And here I thought the Dream Team were just drool-worthy older men.” One of the girls in the back spoke just low enough for me to hear. I ignored her when she looked me over like she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into me. Her voice rose a bit.“I found my new steamy dream partner when I crawl into bed tonight.” The way her gaze tracked me was an open invitation.
I turned my back on her. “Let’s go, people.”
My gut twisted hard, and I jogged down the steps, taking up my position in the middle of the auditorium.
With the lights shining in their eyes, they wouldn’t be able to see me while I had a perfect view of every facial expression and every vocal.
One of the more intriguing voices in the group belonged to a young man named Damien. His voice had a wide range and power that I hoped to harness next year…if he stuck it out.
The thought brought Harmony back to mind. She’d looked devastated at possibly losing her spot in the theater program.
The twisting feeling intensified. I had to help her get her grades up. Leighona had a great voice and stage presence, but Harmony’s glow when she stepped on stage enraptured audiences.
She was the kind of student who should’ve been a prodigy.
3
STEPHEN
Iwas the first to make it home at the end of classes since all my classes ended at four p.m. and not a minute later. I’d memorized Roberto and Matthew’s schedules, and since it was a Monday night, I knew I had the apartment to myself for about thirty minutes before they’d arrive.
Groaning, I made my way from the car through the glass door and across the lobby.
Tommy, our regular doorman and guard, nodded at me from his post at the counter. “Evening, Mr. Harding.”
The guy had to be pushing sixty, but he insisted on calling all of us mister. I returned the nod. “Evening, Tommy. How’s it been?”
“Quiet today. That woman on the third floor moved out. Sounded more like she got thrown out. Mr. Richardson found out she’d been keeping three dogs in her apartment.”
I whistled, swiped my card over the scanner on the elevator, and pushed the button that would carry me all the way up to the penthouse apartment I shared with my two best friends. “Going to put that in your book?”
Tommy had been working on a novel for as long as I could remember. I’d asked once what it was about, and he’d spent ten minutes talking about how he hoped to combine supernatural detectives with dragons.
He grinned wide and snorted. “Not a chance. Hellhounds, maybe. That could be fun.”
Still grinning, he tossed a hand up in a wave. “Have a good night, Mr. Harding.”
“You too, Tommy.” The doors closed and I let myself slump against the steel wall. Cold air pumped in through one of the vents, fanning my silvering hair across my forehead. I swept it back, impatient to reach the top floor and relax.
Whatever Matthew wanted to talk about would probably give me a headache or indigestion. Probably both. The man had more wild ideas than an author had stories. His creativity astounded me. My work with numbers made sense. You worked the problem according to the rules and you came up with the right answer.
Not Matthew. I’d called him a dreamer once, and he’d taken it as the best compliment I could give.
A ding sounded and the doors opened, depositing me on the fringe of our living room. The brown leather sofa beckoned me closer, the soft blanket thrown across one arm tempting me to settle in and watch TV until the others arrived. I shoved off the idea and crossed to the gym, yanking off my white button-up shirt and tie and tossing them onto the bench seat beside the door. My slacks were not the best workout attire, but I needed a release from the tension that had started early this morning when I woke from a nightmare.
I was in the middle of my third set when Roberto appeared in the open doorway. He took one look at me and settled on the thrusting machine to my left. Matthew came in next and took up a spot on the free weights. The two of them worked out with mein silence until Matthew tapped a button on the wall and rock music rattled the walls.
I bared my teeth in a grateful smile. They knew me better than anyone else. Anyone looking in would find the three of us working out while wearing our suits odd.
Good thing no one could look in and none of us gave a rat’s ass. This was our safe place, our sanctuary. Here, we could let down our guard and be who we wanted.
“Had another student hit on me today.” Roberto’s black hair fell around his head in damp curls as he thrust the bar up with his hips. His olive skin flushed with the exertion. “I almost told her to fuck right off. But I was afraid she’d try to take me up on the offer.”
I snorted out a laugh. “We’re probably the only men on the planet complaining because hot women hit on us all the time.”
“Most of them can’t be called women.” Matthew grunted with the effort of squatting the two hundred pounds on the bar stretched across his back. He stood, his legs shaking and straining. “They’re not mature enough to be women yet.”
True. Not our problem.
