Chapter One
Tandy
I hear my phone ringing but really don’t want to open my eyes. I stayed up so late last night. No, not at a wild college party. I was studying. All bloody night. And now someone is disrupting my peace and the two hours I have to nap before my first class. Ugh, I also don’t want someone to need me and me not know. It could be my mom using a friend’s phone or something.
I reach over and make a blind grab for the thing but miss, sending it falling to the floor. Damn it. Now I have to go digging for it.
I check the number but don’t recognize it. “Hello.”
I sound like I just gargled coffee grounds, but the person on the other side is just going to have to deal.
“Miss Tandy?”
I don’t recognize the voice. A mental image forms in my head though. The voice is male and the way he calls me Miss Tandy is sweet. He doesn’t sound like a college student but rather an older person. “Yes.”
“This is Coach Russel, with the University football team.”
I wait for him to go on. None of this makes any sense. Why the hell is a football coach calling me? Unless…
“I met your mother a couple of nights ago at the hospital and she mentioned you offer tutoring sessions to students who aren’t doing so well in things like History and English.”
Oh no. No, no, no. NO!
She wouldn’t. Would she?
“She said you wouldn’t mind helping one of my players.”
She did!
I open my mouth to tell this nice, sweet man that my mother is a habitual liar when someone knocks on the front door. Hopefully, one of my roommates is home and will answer it because I have no intention of doing it.
“Sir, I don’t normally tutor…athletes.”
The last thing I want to do is be rude to him when he was so sweet to me. “It’s nothing personal…”
It totally is.
“I just find that players don’t give me as much seriousness as I need to help them.”
“Not Rip.”
Rip? It sounds like a fuckboy name. Who the hell names their kid Rip anyway? “He’ll put in the work because the money to pay you is coming out of his bonus this year.”
He mentions a price that has my mouth falling open. How much fucking help does this kid need? Before I can answer the coach, my bedroom door swings open, causing me to momentarily forget the phone in my hand as I yelp and try stupidly to scoot back on my bed. Standing in my door is the biggest guy I have ever seen.
I bring the phone back to my ear. “I can’t talk right now. I think I’m about to be murdered and I’m not going to make it easy for the guy.”
Unlike I already have, by scooting my ass back on the bed and all but offering myself up to the intruder on a soft, malleable plate.
Holy shit! How the hell am I going to get out of this fucking debacle? When the man steps into my shady room he has to duck to get through the door. He has to be well over six foot, six-five, six-six. And too broad to go around should I choose to make a run for it instead of flinging myself out the window.
A ringtone I don’t recognize breaks the silence as the Hulk and I stare each other down. He yanks his phone out of the pocket of his coat and answers it just as Vanessa slinks in. Now there is a girl who is just asking for it if you want my opinion. Why doesn’t he go for her and allow me time to make my Final Girl escape out my freaking window.
There’s a sound that grabs my attention and I hold the phone back up to my ear. The coach’s voice is less Winnie the Pooh now and more drill sergeant. “Tell that dumb sack of muscle to answer his phone or so help me…,”
Dumb sack of muscle? Answer his phone? Instead of answering his phone the man steps into the little ring of light my bedside lamp gives off and takes the phone from me.
“Don’t worry, Coach, I found the place!”
Oh. My. Fucking. God. This is the guy the coach wants me to tutor. No wonder Vanessa is here flitting around, grinning like an idiot.
My day has gone from bad to worse as reality crashes down around me. This guy didn’t just send one of his football players, he had to send the largest one right to my door.