Page 9 of Overtime
My lips flatten right back. I turn to the cohort of giggly girls and snap, “Take your damn pictures once and for all and go.”
One of them squeaks. Another one pulls at her two friends until they scramble and go.
“Yikes.” The tutor-dude mumbles as low as his voice can go. He stands back up slowly, as if I’m a feral animal that could jump at him any minute. And I will if he dares call me Aaron again.
Sighing, I face my new tutor again and find her blinking rapidly, like her brain can’t process me.
Bienvenida al club, fresita, I think to myself.
“So, Maddie.” My voice comes out gruff with residual annoyance. “Are we getting to work?”
“Uh, right.” She clears her throat, fills her lungs with air, and launches into the first lesson.
CHAPTER 4
MADDIE
My heart beats as fast as a rabbit’s as I rush toward the exit. Our table mostly cleared after he snapped at those annoying girls, and with Wyatt also gone, it was just Aran Rodriguez and me for forty-five minutes more.
And he’s intimidating as heck.
He has this really intense air about him. Something about the way he observes every detail in complete silence. It made me rant like I never have in my life just so I could busy myself with anything other than panic. Because that’s what I felt the second he asked what TDH is.
In my hurry, I didn’t even bundle myself properly, and once I leave the building, I regret it. The January air feels like tiny needles stabbing my exposed neck and hands. I leave a trail of puffs in the air across the parking lot until I locate my Beetle and hide in it. I turn on the engine and set the heating to the max, watching the library’s front door.
Of course he doesn’t follow. Why would he?
I expel a sigh of relief. Is it just me, or is it even hard to breathe in front of him? I wonder if this is how his opponents feel when they face him. This overwhelming certainty that his eyes can see through to their deepest flaws.
Strawberry, huh? I fiddle with my favorite earrings, the ones I wear when I need a little spark of joy. Now I feel childish.
My phone buzzes in the pocket of my dress and keeps shaking while I pull it out. I accept the incoming call from Wyatt. “Hello?”
“Did you survive?”
I snort. “Barely. Did you time the session so you could make this call?”
“I totally did.” He laughs a bit. “I was too curious. How did it go?”
“It went well, I guess…” I trail off a bit because objectively, it did. Once I started the session, there was no more teasing or snapping. Aran gave me his undivided attention, which is the problem.
“You guess? Don’t tell me he was like…” Wyatt draws in air, though I don’t know if it’s for drama or because he’s taking a brisk walk. “A bully?”
“Goodness, no.”
“Okay, cool. I was a bit concerned based on how he reacted to those girls.”
“So was I, to be honest,” I mumble, fiddling with the hem of my coat. “But I think he’s just kinda grumpy.”
He chuckles. “Grumpy isn’t how I would describe him.”
“You’re right. He deserves at least a full paragraph of description.” I laugh, because I have a whole page of notes about him in my journal.
“I confess I’m a little glad I won’t have to tutor him now, but I’m worried about you.” He hushes his voice, like maybe he’s in a building and not alone anymore. “Did you see in his profile how he specifically requested a male tutor?”
“I saw. What’s the deal with that?” I mumble in return while I fasten my seat belt.
“I don’t know. Moreover, I don’t know why Melinda reassigned you to him.”
