Chapter 4 #2
“Look, if this is some type of punishment you’re trying to subject me to because of how I rated our kiss, it was better than a three,” I admit, causing Jack’s smile to slip for a moment, and his posture straightens.
“Forget it, this was a bad idea,” he says, shaking his head, and I’m wondering if maybe I’ve misjudged the cocky hockey player.
“I didn’t come here to make out with you.
I actually do need help with Comp II, but you’re right, why would I ask you when I have everyone else falling over my feet?
” Jack says, a hint of bitterness bleeding into his rich voice.
Ellie gives me a pleading look as Jack grabs his bag, and her puppy dog eyes are a lethal weapon.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, caving to her silent request. Jack appears skeptical as he freezes his movements, and I realize I have to say more than an apology. “You don’t have to go.”
“Is that an invitation to stay? Because if it is, it might be the least enthusiastic one I’ve ever gotten.”
I cross my arms over my chest, and Ellie clears her throat. “Jack, please do yourself a favor and stop talking before Al changes her mind,” she says, taking the popcorn out of the microwave to shake the bag.
“Hey, Ellie,” he says, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Is it cool if I borrow your roommate for a bit?” he asks, flashing a smile in her direction.
“As long as you remember what we talked about last time, okay?”
What did they talk about last time? You know what, it doesn’t even matter.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack replies smartly, offering her a little salute.
Shit, I want to know what they talked about.
Ellie looks at me, raising her eyebrows in question. “Do I need to supervise or can you be nice?”
“I can be nice,” I protest, feeling my cheeks flame bright red. At least, I think I can.
She sticks her tongue out at me, putting the wine back in the fridge. “Sure, well while you try to be nice, I’m going to go eat this popcorn in my room. Jack, give us a heads up before showing up next time.”
“You got it, little Coop,” he says, and Ellie rolls her eyes, giving me a thumbs up before disappearing into her room.
“So you like the sexy doctor show?” Jack asks, a smirk forming, and my head snaps toward the television, where the screen is paused on the show’s intro featuring a shirtless man with a stethoscope around his neck.
“I thought Ellie warned you to stop talking before I change my mind?” I ask, reluctant to stand up from the couch.
“I’m just making conversation. It was on your screen, and if doctors are your thing, I’m not going to judge you,” he drawls, continuing to talk, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself I’m playing nice.
“Please don’t call me that,” I say, giving him the fakest smile I can muster. “So you need help with Comp II?” I ask, picking a neutral question instead of continuing to go back and forth with him.
I slide onto the stool next to his, shifting away because his size is overwhelming.
Biting my cheek, I glance over at him, noting how the tips of his ears turn a bright red and the color of his cheeks tint.
“Yeah, um, I have dyslexia, and I do my best to keep up, but I get . . . overwhelmed, I guess? It takes me a long time to work through the assignments, but finding sources for the essays before even trying to write the papers is . . .” Jack trails off, shrugging his broad shoulders.
Holy fuck, I’m the worst human alive.
“Do you have any accommodations?” I ask, struggling to speak because I’m so fucking embarrassed by how quick I was to dismiss him when he was genuinely asking for help.
I know there was no way for me to know about his learning disability, but it makes sense why Ellie was helping him the other night.
“I get audio recordings of the lectures, and I’m supposed to get extra time on assignments.
Since we do a lot of peer review, it’s hard to explain why mine isn’t done unless I want to share why, so I try to hit the same deadlines as everyone else, but it’s not going so great for me,” he explains, opening his laptop.
“I failed the class last year, but it’s a requirement to graduate, so I had to retake it this semester. ”
“I’ll talk to our professor and see if we can be partnered the rest of the semester for any peer assignments,” I say, and his blue eyes slide to meet mine, widening for a moment.
I’m a little surprised I’m offering to be stuck with him for the rest of the semester, but everyone has the right to an education.
It’s not his fault that his brain works differently from others.
“We’ll meet Tuesdays and Thursdays to work through the material from class, but if you need help with something outside of that, let me know and we’ll find time to meet. ”
“Thanks,” Jack says, and I exhale, wiping my palms on my thighs.
“Don’t mention it,” I say, twisting my curls back to tie them up off my neck.
“I tutored in high school, so I might be a little rusty, but you have to tell me if I’m going too fast or you need a break.
” When he doesn’t say anything, I look up at him, only to find his gaze trailing over the exposed slope of my neck.
“No funny business, okay? This is just tutoring,” I say, swallowing the lump forming in my throat, tucking my hands into the sleeves of my sweatshirt.
He flashes a cheeky smile. “Is friends on the table?”
“Nope.”
Jack chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll see about that. I think you want to be my friend, but you’re afraid you can’t handle it.”
“You think I can’t handle all the glares from everyone who are desperate to get close to you? Please, Jack, give me some credit.” I snort, reaching over to pull his laptop closer to me, wanting to maintain the space between us.
“Then why can’t we be friends?”
Because you’re my dad’s star player, and a walking representation of sex on a stick?
I raise an eyebrow, wondering if he really needs me to answer this question. “Do you even have any friends who are girls?” I ask, skimming over the screen to see where he’s at with our current project. The number of tabs he has open on his browser makes my eye twitch.
“Ellie,” he says, sounding awfully smug.
“She’s your roommate’s sister. I don’t think Ellie counts.”
“I think she counts, but it’s cool if you don’t want to be friends right now. I’ll wear you down at some point.”
I bite back my smile because he has no idea I’m as hardheaded as my dad. Maybe I should refer him to someone who is actually qualified to be his tutor and has experience with learning disabilities, but it sounds like he really does need the help.
Agreeing to be his tutor is one thing, but becoming his friend would break my rule against having anything to do with hockey players.
“Walk me through what your paper is over, and we can start on some of the material on our midterm exam,” I say, redirecting the conversation back to why he’s here.
For the record, Jack and I are not friends.