Chapter 1
CAMMIE
There was one last day of midterms and I had so many things on my to-do list, I doubted I’d be able to cross them all off.
Laundry wasn’t going to happen until after my last test. Styling my hair into anything more than a sloppy bun took too long.
I had child development chapters to review before the exam tomorrow plus a paper on classroom management to outline, but tonight I had to help someone else pass their classes.
On top of my full load, my on-campus job that subsidized my scholarship was being a science tutor. And when did everyone need help? When they realized they knew nothing about what was on the midterm exam outline and had to cram.
My laptop showed it was just before seven. Looking at the tutor portal, it also showed the name of the person I was helping with genetics for the next ninety minutes was Zeb Wilder.
Never heard of him.
I was sure my roommate, Rose, had. Of the two of us, she was the social one.
Where I met with other students one-on-one in the quiet of a library with a book between us, she was doing work credit for her kinesiology major as a PT intern for the women’s volleyball team.
She got to know all the players on the various school teams and went to all the games.
She also went to all the sports parties.
Pretty much, she had a social life and knew everyone on campus.
I did not.
I was perpetually up to my eyeballs in homework and classes and nine out of ten times she asked me to go to a party, I said no. I had my eye on the prize, which was my degree and a job as an elementary school teacher.
I glanced around the library, which was more crowded than usual due to everyone cramming for the exams. I was in my normal spot at a four-person table on the far side of the main level, beside the window.
Freshman year, I learned I needed to be able to see outside otherwise the hours of studying passed without knowing if it was day or night.
It was dark out now, the sun setting earlier and earlier this time of year.
It’d even snowed the other day. A dusting and maybe more was expected this weekend.
Fall in Montana wasn’t just pumpkin spice lattes and colorful leaves.
Taking off my glasses, I rubbed my dry eyes and wondered if I’d be in bed before midnight.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, Tutor.”
A deep voice had me dropping my hands and blinking.
For a big guy, I hadn’t heard him approach.
I perched my glasses back on my nose and saw that he was smiling down at me. My nipples went hard beneath my white long sleeve t-shirt and cozy, gray cardigan.
I blinked. Stared up at him. Way up. Sandy blond hair clipped short. Blue eyes. Strong cheekbones and square jaw. Prominent chin with that little dent in it. And that mouth…
I swallowed as I eyed those full lips.
I didn’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t date. Hadn’t had one since freshman year if the guy from English Lit asking me to coffee counted. Since I paid and he texted with his mother the entire time, it wasn’t worth remembering.
This guy? Holy hell. He had to be over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. With me sitting and him standing, he was maybe six feet. Six-one. Or two. He ate his vegetables, that was for sure.
“You Cameron?” he asked, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and setting it on the table. His voice was deep and smooth and he had a relaxed, easygoing manner. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. Or was struggling with genetics.
I nodded, kinda forgetting how to talk.
“Zeb Wilder. We got matched for tutoring. Sorry I’m a little late, I thought you were gonna be a guy.”
I was studying to be a teacher. I was smart. I was articulate. I had lists that I worked through every day. Today should’ve included ogle the hot guy and now I could cross that off.
“Yeah, my mother, too,” I said finally.
He frowned.
“Ultrasound showed a boy, I came out a girl.”
“Lucky me.” He grinned.
Somehow, my vagina let my brain function again and I smiled and said, “I go by Cammie. Have a seat.”
There, that was a reasonable thing to say.
He dropped into the chair across from me, set his big hands on the table.
He stared at me.
I stared at him because there was something about him, something gorgeous. Mesmerizing. Spellbound, that was what it was. I felt spellbound by this guy whose scent–like clean soap and something unidentifiable but rugged–hit me all at once from the few feet that separated us.
I had no idea how long we pretty much played the blinking game because the only reason it ended was because some girl walking by said, “Hey Zeb.”
He looked up, offered her a casual “hey” in return.
I shook my head, as if he’d put me into some kind of trance. Looked around. Everyone was staring at us. People from other study tables to those walking by to even the librarian at the front desk.
I leaned in and whispered, meeting his eyes again. “Why is everyone staring? Are you famous or something?”
“Think they’re all staring at you, sweetheart,” he murmured back.
I frowned, pushed my glasses up. “Me? God, do I have mustard on my face or something? Did my pen explode again?”
His blue eyes roved slowly over my face and I felt it all over.
“They haven’t seen a prettier girl.”
I flushed and rolled my eyes at the same time. “Okay, hot shot,” I muttered. “You don’t have to butter me up. Me tutoring you is a given.”
“You don’t believe me?” he pondered.
I tapped the wooden surface of the table. “This is my spot. In the library.” I was literally pointing out how much of a dork I was. “I lost my pencil a while ago–”
“It’s in your hair,” he commented, his eyes tipping north to study my blonde mess.
I reached up, patted the wildness and there it was. My damned pencil.
“See? No one is looking at me.” I pointed at myself. “Total nerd over here.”
“If I’d known you were here, I’d’ve come to the library years ago.”
Now, I was really blushing. He was complimenting me. I wasn’t sure why. Up until a minute ago, he thought he was being tutored by a guy. No doubt, he had a girlfriend and was just trying to be nice because I was the key to him passing his class. Heck, he probably had multiple girlfriends.
While my body responded to him on an instinctual, visceral level, it didn’t mean that he did in return.
It wasn’t like I had guys looking my way.
Rose told me I dressed like I found my clothes in a donation box, which was half true.
I loved to thrift shop and who was I trying to impress?
I didn’t have time for guys and when I did my work study at the elementary school down the street, I wore dangly apple earrings and ugly sweaters to amuse the second graders.
I needed to get with the program. Zeb Wilder was here to pass his genetics class. I was here to keep my scholarship.
“Got your textbook?” I asked. “Maybe you can tell me what chapters you need help on for your midterm?”
Read Zeb next!