Scoring Position (Daytona Fury #2)

4. Ace

FOUR

ACE

“Okay, wait,” I murmur to myself as I reread the words on the page of my textbook. “So, the average vagina is only about three point six inches deep, but the average erect penis is almost six inches? How does that even make sense?”

I've been at this assignment for the last hour, and it's not any clearer now than it was when I began. My eyes are crossing from the amount of time I've spent staring at this book, trying to understand the shit I'm reading. The first part of the lesson wasn’t so bad because all we had to do was take a quiz about our own sexuality and answer some questions. We didn’t even have to turn it in—we just had to go online and confirm that it was completed. But now that I’ve moved on to the actual coursework, I’m completely lost.

The very first part of this assignment went over the male anatomy, which worked out well for me since that’s exactly what I have. But once we moved on to the female body, everything stopped making sense…especially when it came to arousal and how we differ in that area. For guys, it's simple. We get turned on, we get hard, and we're ready to go. But a woman’s body is so much more complex, and I’ll admit I had no idea. The more information I’m trying to soak in right now, the less it’s making sense.

“Fuck,” I groan, closing the book and dragging my hands down my face. I’m supposed to have the quiz that accompanies this chapter done by noon, which definitely isn’t going to happen. As it is, I had to email the professor and ask for more time because we had a game yesterday. She was kind enough to extend the midnight deadline by twelve hours, but there’s no way I’ll be able to do it.

I need help.

As much as I didn’t want to have to do this, I really don’t have much of a choice. I’m already behind on my work and the semester has barely even started. If I wait much longer, I’ll lose control and fail this class. Then I’ll be stuck in school even longer.

I set the book on the couch beside me before grabbing my phone and pulling up the number for the registration office. I’m sure there’s a department dedicated to this sort of thing, but I don't have time to figure out which one it is, so hopefully, they can point me in the right direction. I wait on the line as it rings, a familiar voice answering quickly.

“Sun State University registration. This is Hailey. How can I help you?”

I clear my throat. “Uhh, yeah. This is Ace Mathers. I think we spoke a few weeks ago regarding an elective I needed to take for the summer semester.”

“Oh, yes!” she replies cheerfully. “Were you able to get everything set up okay?”

“Yeah. That’s actually why I’m calling,” I say. God, this shit is embarrassing, but I’m out of options. “I registered for Human Sexuality, but I’m having a little trouble keeping up with the assignments already. Can you tell me if the school offers any type of tutoring?”

“We normally do,” she replies, “but not during the summer semester, since nobody is on campus. Plus, if I remember our conversation from before, you travel a lot. You would probably want to hire someone privately to help you. Everyone we employ here is a student, so they’d need to stay in the area.”

I lean my head back, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. I swear, it’s been one thing after another with this. I’m about to give up. But every time I think about it, I remember everything my grandma did for me, and I just can’t. “Do you know of anybody that would be able to help me? I’d definitely need them to travel with me to away games sometimes, but I’d cover all their expenses and make sure they were taken care of on the road.” I know it’s probably unconventional, but at this point, I’m desperate. I need to get through this class.

She pauses for a moment, thinking before she answers. “Actually, I might know someone, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone you got this information from me. I know for a fact that she took that course and passed with a perfect score. I can’t guarantee that she’ll say yes, but it’s worth a try.”

“Respectfully,” I say, putting her on speakerphone and pulling up my Notes app, “I’m fucking desperate right now. This girl could be a serial killer or one of those people who puts mayo in their coffee, and I’d still ask her.”

She laughs before rambling off the info for the girl I need to get ahold of. I don’t ask questions, assuming this is a college student from the area who could use some extra cash over the summer. Well, she’s in luck, because I’ll empty my bank account if she can help me pass without it becoming detrimental to my game.

We end the call, and I immediately dial the number I was given, tapping the tip of my middle finger on my knee as it rings. Nerves wash over me, because what if I can’t convince her? What if she’s busy and can’t travel with me? What if she has a jealous boyfriend who doesn’t like the idea of her going all over the country with me for the next month and a half? Letting my grandma down isn’t an option, but if I have to drop out of this course and take another one in the fall—while we’re hopefully in the middle of playoffs—it’ll be impossible to fully focus on either one.

Every bad outcome plays over and over in my head until the ringing stops and a feminine voice comes over the line.

“Hello?” she says in greeting.

Fuck, she sounds kind of sexy. Now I’m even more nervous.

Clearing my throat, I somehow locate my balls long enough to respond. “Hi. Is this Lark Dawson?”

“Yes, that’s me,” she answers, clearly confused about the unknown number and strange man on the other end of the call. “Who is this?”

I swallow, knowing that if I don’t present this in the most appealing way, I’ll likely end up failing this course. I could do what all of my teammates do and tell her I’m a famous professional athlete to spark her interest, but I actually hate doing that. I love playing for the Fury, but I don’t do it for the money or notoriety. I do it because I live and breathe this sport, and it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Using it as bait to get women to talk to me has always felt wrong.

“My name is Ace Mathers, and I got your number from Hailey at the university. I’m looking for a tutor for my summer Human Sexuality course, and she thought you might be able to help me.”

She pauses for a moment, and I wait in anticipation for her reply. Just as I feel the need to fill the awkward silence with something, she speaks again. “I don’t work for the school anymore. I’m not sure why she gave you my name, but there are plenty of tutors on their staff that can give you the help you need.”

“No,” I rush out. “I’m actually looking to hire someone privately. It’s a summer course, so it’s only six weeks long, but I travel a lot for work. I would need you to come along with me so I could get my assignments done on time. We can be gone anywhere from two to five nights a week, and we go all over the country. I’m already a couple of days into this course and I’m concerned about falling behind because there’s so much work. I’m kind of desperate right now.”

God, I sound like such an idiot.

“I, ummm…” she trails off. “I don’t think I’ll be able to help you, Ace. I just got let go from my job, and I need to pay my bills. Tutoring fees definitely won’t cut it, so I need to find a full-time job that’ll cover my expenses. I’m sure if you call Hailey back, she can give you the name of someone else.”

Shit. I really didn’t want to have to sink to this level of douchebaggery, but it doesn’t look like I have much of a choice. I exhale slowly, my shoulders slumping forward at what I’m about to say. “Money is no object. I’ll pay you whatever you want.” A full-body shiver racks my limbs because I even grossed myself out with that line, and I wait with bated breath to hear her reaction.

“Unless you can pay me about four thousand dollars a month, I really can’t help you,” she says with an incredulous laugh. I get it. That amount would be astronomical to most people. I know that growing up, my grandma worked around the clock for a fraction of that, but I’m blessed enough to have the means to give this girl what she needs in exchange for helping me through this course.

“Done,” I say. “A thousand dollars a week to travel with me and provide any assistance I might need so I can get this done and graduate at the end of the summer. I’ll probably want some extra time with you to make sure I’m prepared for the final, which has to be turned in one week after the course of study is complete. If that works, I’m happy to write you a check for the whole seven grand right away so you can have your bills taken care of ahead of time.”

She goes silent. I pull the phone away from my ear, looking at it to make sure she hasn’t hung up before speaking again. “Lark? Are you there?”

“Is this a joke? Did you really get my number from Hailey, or is Dean Dawson being a sneaky bitch again?”

Dean Dawson? Why would I ? —

“Wait? Are you related to the dean of the university?” I question. The last name isn’t super uncommon, but she could be her daughter or something. I’ve met the woman once, and I practically had to get on my knees and beg her to allow me to take all my classes remotely. The school offers online courses, but some of the ones I needed were supposed to be done in person. I remember the way her top lip curled when she told me I didn’t deserve special treatment just because I was famous. I tried explaining to her that I didn’t want special treatment and would do the same work as everyone else, but I needed to be excused from on-campus instruction because of my job. Trust me—being in the classroom would’ve made this shit a million times easier. I never once asked her for a lighter workload, and prior to this week, I’ve never turned in an assignment late. But she still made me feel like I was a waste of space for even asking. After initially telling me no, I received a phone call from her assistant saying that she had changed her mind. I have a feeling it was discussed, and they decided that my enrollment at the school might do something to lure new students in.

Lark scoffs in disgust, bringing my attention back to our conversation. “Not anymore, thank God. She’s my ex-husband’s mother.”

The words are a shock to me. This girl doesn’t sound old enough to be married and divorced. Plus, she sounds hot as fuck. I bet whoever this dude is, he’s regretting the fact that he dropped the bag right now.

“I swear the dean didn’t send me. I called the registration office to see if they could help me find a tutor, and Hailey told me that everyone who works there is gone for the summer. She suggested I hire you privately, and to be honest, I feel like it’s the perfect situation for both of us. I’ll pass my class, and you’ll make enough money to pay your bills. You’ll get to see some cool places while we’re traveling too,” I tack on, trying to make this gig sound as interesting as possible. I really need her to say yes.

“What do you do for work that has you traveling all over the country while in college?” she asks.

“I play baseball. For the Daytona Fury.”

“Like, the MLB team? That Daytona Fury?” she replies in surprise, making me chuckle. She’s cute.

“It’s the only team with that name, as far as I know,” I reply. “And yes. I’m their catcher.”

She gasps. “Are you the one with the butt? That dances to all the show tu—” She cuts herself off mid-sentence, and a quiet gasp comes over the line. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. That was inappropriate. I didn’t mean to?—”

I laugh again. “It’s fine. Would it make you say yes if I told you that I am, in fact, the one with the butt ?”

“You’re serious,” she says. “You’ll really pay me a thousand dollars a week to help you pass Human Sexuality?”

I smile to myself. “Honestly? I’d pay you more than that if you asked. I have to graduate, and this is my one and only shot before my career gets kind of crazy. I’m a rookie, so everyone is watching and waiting for me to mess up. If I do, I could be sent back down to the minors, and I may never find my way back. I really need you, Lark. Please?” I’m not above begging her to do this. If Hailey is right, and she’s the only one around to do it, I’ll give her whatever she wants.

She sighs. “Alright. I’ll tutor you. But let me at least do a little bit of research on you in the meantime. That probably sounds weird, but you can never be too careful. You could be a serial killer.”

My brows shoot up into my hairline. “Funny. I thought the same thing about you. But here we are, about to embark on a nationwide adventure together, pending your Google investigation. If it speeds up the process, I promise I’m a perfect gentleman. I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. And I’ll make sure that when we’re on the road, you have a room of your own and a rental car in case you feel like you need to leave.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mumbles, and I internally fist pump because once she finds out I’m not a criminal, she’s in.

Looks like I’m going to graduate, after all.