10. Maddox
Maddox
I guess the tactics I’m trying are actually working, because Killian seems to be in a good mood.
Making him do the problems again and again works great, and I don’t think he even notices that they’re getting more complicated each time. We knock down another chapter in the book before I realize that twenty minutes are already up, just in time for another quick break.
Killian’s swiveling my desk chair back and forth, his face lit up.
I walk over to my chest of drawers and grab another bag of crackers, doing my best not to think about the damn red dildo that he accidentally found.
Still, my cheeks feel a bit heated as I turn back to Killian and toss him the snacks.
He rips the bag open and practically inhales a cracker. When I sit back down on my bed, he says, “I wish I learned all this sooner, then I would’ve at least passed the first exam and wouldn’t need to work so hard to keep my average up.”
“You’d still need to work hard.”
“But not as hard.”
I lift an eyebrow at him. “Is that the same attitude you bring to hockey?”
Undeterred by my snark, Killian snickers. I’m quiet, realizing that apart from tutoring, we don’t really have all that much in common. Silence doesn’t bother me all that much, but it seems to make him restless, and I mentally count the seconds until he—
Killian clears his throat. “So.”
Ten seconds.
“So,” I repeat.
“How much do you charge? You never actually told me.”
“Oh…” I scratch the back of my neck. “I wasn’t planning on asking you to pay.”
His mouth parts. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re Caleb’s friend.”
Killian falters for a second, which is an unusual look on him. Then he lets out a hoarse laugh and says, “I don’t think Jennings and I are going to be friends at all if he finds out about this.”
That makes me smirk. “Yeah, he’s overprotective of me.”
“What’s that even about?”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I was the school’s tiny nerd.”
“You still are.”
He huffs a laugh when I kick his shin.
“A pretty, tiny nerd,” he clarifies. He grins when I glare at him. “Go on.”
“I got picked on sometimes,” I say, trying to downplay how bad it got over the years and exactly why Caleb is the way he is with me.
I don’t tell him that, in our senior year of high school, it got so bad that Caleb broke someone’s nose for it.
“We’ve always looked after each other, and him being protective is simply how he’s there for me. ”
He swings the chair side to side again. “Are you and Jennings…? Um. I know you said you’re not into jocks, but do you two have history? I know he’s with Sandoval now, but—”
Fuck. The absurdity of that question makes me burst out laughing. “God, no,” I say between fits of laughter. “We’re friends. Nothing more.”
He chews on his lip. “Okay. Are you dating anyone right now, though? ”
Could he be any more subtle? “No.”
“Not even casually?”
I give him an incredulous look.
“What? I want to know more about you.” Smiling sheepishly, Killian tosses the empty bag of crackers into the paper bin under my desk. “You don’t have to answer, but it’s really not a big deal.”
I say, bluntly, “I don’t do casual.”
He snorts. “You’re not dating anyone and you don’t do casual?” Then, he mumbles, “That explains a lot.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ah… did I say that out loud?”
“Again, what does that mean?”
He pouts. “I don’t want to explain. You might kick me out.”
I rub a hand over my face and laugh. “I promise not to kick you out.”
Killian’s silent for a good while. He crosses his arms and his stare drifts out the window. Finally, he murmurs, “Well, it’s just… I think you could do with a hookup or two. You probably wouldn’t be so pent-up if you let loose sometimes. Being sexually pent-up isn’t healthy.”
I fight to keep a straight face because I know he’s trying to get a reaction out of me, maybe fluster me. “What makes you think I’m sexually pent-up?”
He gestures at my drawer.
Where the dildo is.
“Oh, god.” My cheeks flare. A part of me wants to argue that having toys doesn’t mean I’m pent-up, and that it could mean the exact opposite. But then again, I don’t even want to go there.
I shove him and reach for his book, turning to the next page so aggressively that I almost rip the paper, and he lets out a bark of laughter.
This guy’s going to be the end of me.
“Do this problem,” I order.
“But you said my breaks are five minutes, and—”
“Killian!”
He laughs again, his cheeks rosy, and I don’t know whether to feel irritated or amazed by his shamelessness. The heat pooling in my stomach says it’s most likely the latter. Again, Killian doesn’t seem bothered by my bossiness—if anything, he seems to find it entertaining.
And that should really get on my nerves, but it doesn’t, despite the irritated front I’m trying to keep up.
He reaches over and smooths a thumb between my eyebrows. “Calm down, pretty boy. Wrinkles won’t look good on you.”
“Don’t call me that.” Still flustered, I swat at his hand, and he laughs again.
If I’m being completely honest, I missed this side of him. During the days that he avoided me and wouldn’t even look at me, all I could think about was how playful he was back at the bowling alley. It’s endearing, and I like it.
Doesn’t mean I’ll do anything about it, though.
We continue with the next problems, me guiding him through and asking him to work on them on his own.
The entire time, I’m very aware of his presence next to me.
He doesn’t seem to mind when I lean in close enough that my knees brush against his, and even if I catch him staring at my side profile more than once, he keeps his attention on what he’s learning.
And before I know it, our session’s up.
My stomach sinks, and I realize that’s the telltale sign of disappointment. What the fuck?
He gives me a wide smile as he puts his book away, and I lean back on the bed and avert my eyes to the floor.
“By the way.” He taps my knee, and I glance up at him. “Why did you decide to tutor me? You didn’t seem all that amused by me last time.”
“I’m plenty amused by you,” I say. “I know how much you bring to your team, and getting the trophy’s important to Caleb.”
“Ah, so this is about him?”
“Sure,” I lie .
“I still can’t let you do this for free,” he says. “Maybe there’s some way I can pay you back?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It is… This is the last semester I’m eligible to play, and if I can’t, it’ll break my heart. Now I have a fighting chance, and that’s all thanks to you.”
“You’re being too dramatic.”
“That’s me.” He pauses. “What if I take you out to dinner?”
“Nah.”
Killian groans and clutches at the front of his shirt. “I stand corrected. Not being able to play won’t break my heart… you will.”
That makes me crack a smile. “There’s no need for us to hang out outside tutoring, and you don’t need to pay me back. Tutoring’s fun for me, anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah, but what would be so bad about us hanging out? I promise not to hit on you.”
Scoffing, I lean back with my hands on the bed behind me and fix him with a stare. “I don’t think you’re capable of not flirting with anyone. You’ll probably go into withdrawal.”
He grimaces. “Is this about the Chey and Levi mess? Because—”
I raise a hand to cut him off. “No. It’s not. Though… on that note, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding last time. I wasn’t irritable because you were hitting on me. I was irritable because I thought you were lying about tutoring to hit on me.”
“So I can hit on you?”
Jesus. “No. Do it with everyone else, like you do.”
“I don’t hit on everyone. ”
“Right.” Even if I promised myself I wouldn’t bring it up, it’s hard not to. “You’ve got quite the reputation. I’m not judging, but there’s no need to lie to me.”
Killian lifts his chin and smirks. “What have you heard about me, pretty boy?”
I hold his gaze, refusing to back down. I don’t like gossiping, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard what people say about him. “That you’re game for almost anything. ”
In typical Killian fashion, he’s neither taken aback nor offended by my brashness. His smirk only widens. He asks, voice low, “Want to know if the rumors are true?”
I roll my eyes, hoping he doesn’t notice how I involuntarily grip the sheet of my bed. “See? Like I said. Incapable of not flirting. Sorry, but playboys aren’t my thing.”
“You said the same thing about jocks. Wow, I should have a bingo card for this.”
“Yes, you’re the very definition of not my type.”
“Keep saying that. Maybe you’ll even convince yourself.”
I fight a laugh, and hate that he notices, going by how his eyes light up. My attempt to hide it with a cough fails, so I get up and gesture for him to do the same. “Time to go, Killian. Our session’s over, and I’ve got a paper to finish.”
“Fine,” he concedes, though he’s still grinning.
Killian stands and grabs his book, and I turn toward my door.
He continues to talk behind my back. “But just so we’re clear, I’m going to pay you back, whether you like it or not…
and also, just so we’re clear, I genuinely do like you and it’s not only because you’re gorgeous. ”
Thank god I’m facing away from him, because my hand falters as I’m reaching for the door. My heart jolts, and I take a second to collect myself before turning my head to him—he’s staring at me in that intense way he does, and it shakes me to the core.
I breathe in slowly. Once.
Then I open the door and gesture out into the hall.
He doesn’t stop talking though, because of course not. Killian keeps speaking as he walks toward the door. “You’re smart, funny, and confident. And you’re missing out because you don’t want to admit you’re into me, too.”
When I finally respond, even I’m impressed by how level my voice is. “We’re never happening.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I chuckle and instantly regret it when he smiles, and I clap a hand over my mouth.
God, I’m doing a terrible job hiding how much I do like him—a lot, actually. He needs to get out of here before I do something stupid, like take him up on his offer to show me if the rumors about him are true.
“Why won’t you admit you’re into me?” he says as I push him out the doorway. “What, scared? Think you won’t be able to keep up with me?”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to challenge me again, and it won’t work.”
He ignores that. “Does a hockey player’s stamina threaten you? I promise I’ll go easy on you.”
I hate how that makes my dick twitch. Damn it.
Heat creeps up my neck. I bite down on my bottom lip, and Killian catches the motion, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
He knows his effect on me and he’s not afraid to say something about it.
Honestly, I respect that. It’s fucking hot.
There’s some chatter outside as a group of students flock by, and Killian leans in. He’s so close that our noses almost touch, and I hold my own and refuse to move away. He whispers, “You scared I’d ruin you for anyone else? Make you come so hard you’d feel it for days?”
My heart thunders in my chest. “Do you have an off button?”
“No, I’m always turned on when you’re around.”
“Classy.”
Killian bursts out laughing and stands up straight, and a much milder smile crosses his features. “Okay, I’ll stop messing around. In all seriousness, though, thank you for agreeing to tutor me.”
“You’re welcome.” And even if I said he wouldn’t bring out my competitive side with this, I glance around the hallway to make sure nobody’s near—then I raise my hand and crook a finger, gesturing for him to come closer once more.
Killian cocks his head but obeys, and I twist my finger in his collar until he leans down like before.
Our faces are barely an inch apart, and now that I’m much calmer, I notice more.
I can smell his aftershave, and there’s a very tiny scar on his jaw.
I wonder if he got it at the same time as the one he has on his brow.
Hockey players and their scars. Even if he most likely can’t do much to hide them, Killian probably thinks they look hot.
They do, but I won’t tell him that.
My gaze drifts to his mouth, and I don’t care if he notices, then I meet his eyes.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t be the one to ruin you?” I murmur. He sucks in a breath, which is just the reaction I wanted. “And so we’re on the same page… you’re never going to make me come because you’re never going to touch my dick.”
His gaze darkens, but he doesn’t move away.
Slowly, Killian smirks, and it’s almost devilish.
“What makes you think I need to touch your dick to make you come?” He presses his lips together, waiting—what he’s waiting for, I don’t even know, but the stretch of silence between us only makes my heart beat louder.
Finally, he says, “I bet you I’m going to have you by the end of this semester, pretty boy, and you’re going to be the one to ask for it. ”
My hold on his collar falters, my eyes widening.
And because I know that anything I say will only betray how fucking turned on I am, I keep silent.
Instead, I drift my hand down to his chest and push him fully out into the hall. My hand prickles from where I’m touching him, because despite the thick material of his shirt separating our skin, I can feel his warmth underneath my fingers.
It burns me.
The last thing I see before I close the door is the confidence in Killian’s face—smug, taunting, and way too aware of what he does to me.