Chapter 4 #2
I laughed. It was a dry, self-deprecating sound.
"Kai, I'm a Marketing major with a focus on Luxury Brand Management.
My entire degree is based on convincing people they need things they don't actually need.
I can sell ice to a polar bear. I can definitely sell 'Utilitarianism' to a liberal arts professor. "
Silence stretched between us.
The machine hissed in the background.
Kai looked at the paper, then at me. He looked skeptical, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. Desperation. Hope.
"You would help me?" he asked. "Why?"
"Because," I shrugged, pulling my robe tighter. "If you get kicked off the team, my dad will probably blame me somehow. He'll say I was a distraction. And then he'll move me to a nunnery in Idaho."
"Idaho is nice," Kai murmured.
"Idaho is where fashion goes to die."
I picked up his red pen from the counter. I twirled it between my fingers.
"I can tutor you," I said. "I can teach you how to write with 'voice.' I can teach you how to bullshit your way through an ethics debate so smoothly the professor won't even realize you didn't do the reading."
Kai studied me. He took a step closer. The air in the kitchen shifted. It wasn't the aggressive heat of last night. It was warmer. Heavier.
He looked at my hand holding the pen. Then he looked at my face.
"What's the catch?" he asked.
"Excuse me?"
"You don't do things for free, Maeve. You're a Sterling. Everything is a transaction."
He wasn't wrong.
"Quid pro quo," he said softly. "I know the game."
I bit my lip. What did I want?
I could ask for money, but I had money. I could ask him to be nicer to me, but that felt pathetic.
I looked at his hands. The large, capable hands that were currently battered and bruised. I thought about the way he had looked at Brad last night. Protective.
I thought about the way I felt when I was with him. Terrified, yes. But also… seen.
And I thought about the secret that was eating me alive. The fact that I was twenty-one and had never been touched. The fact that I froze every time a guy got too close because I was afraid of being bad at it. Afraid of being laughed at.
I needed practice. I needed exposure therapy.
I needed a safe place to fail.
"A favor," I said. My voice trembled slightly.
"What kind of favor?" Kai asked, his eyes narrowing.
"I don't know yet," I lied. "A wild card. I help you pass Ethics. You owe me one favor. Anything I ask. No questions asked. No refusals."
Kai went still. He was assessing the risk. Giving a girl like me a blank check was dangerous.
"Anything?" he repeated.
"Anything," I confirmed. "Within reason. I won't ask you to kill anyone."
He snorted. "That's usually my first offer."
He looked at the paper again. The D- glared up at him. He looked at his bruised hand. He knew he was cornered.
"Fine," he said.
He held out his uninjured hand.
"Deal."
I stared at his hand. It was huge. The palm was calloused from gripping a hockey stick.
I reached out. My hand looked tiny and pale in his.
As soon as our skin touched, the static shock was audible. Zap.
I gasped lightly. Kai didn't flinch, but his fingers curled around mine, swallowing my hand completely. His grip was firm, warm, and possessive.
He didn't let go immediately. He held my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles—a mirror of the movement from last night, but softer this time.
"You have cold hands," he noted.
"Circulation issue," I breathed.
"I can fix that," he muttered, almost to himself.
He pulled me a step closer. Just one step. We were standing by the island, the smell of coffee and ozone between us. He looked down at me, and for the first time, the mask was completely gone.
"You really think I'm writing like a robot?" he asked quietly.
"A little bit," I admitted. "A very angry, Russian robot."
"Teach me, then," he said. "Teach me how to lie, Princess."
"I'm not teaching you to lie," I whispered, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his grey eyes. "I'm teaching you how to tell the truth in a way that people want to hear."
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, he slowly released my hand. The loss of contact made my skin ache.
"We start tonight," he said, his voice returning to its usual command. "7 PM. Don't be late."
He picked up his coffee and the bag of peas. He turned to walk back to his room.
"Kai," I called out.
He paused in the doorway. "What?"
"Put some Arnica on that hand," I said, gesturing to his bruise. "Ice isn't enough."
He looked at his hand, then back at me. A corner of his mouth ticked up. A half-smile. It transformed his face from terrifying to devastatingly handsome.
"Yes, ma'am," he said.
He disappeared into his room. The door clicked shut.
I sagged against the counter, exhaling a breath that shook my entire frame.
I had a deal with the Devil.
I was going to teach him Ethics.
And I had a feeling he was going to teach me everything else.
I picked up the red pen he had left on the counter. I pressed the cool plastic against my lips, right where he had almost kissed me.
One favor.
I knew exactly what I was going to use it for. But not yet. Not until I was brave enough to ask.
For now, I just had to survive the tutoring sessions without jumping him.
"Easier said than done," I muttered, grabbing my coffee and retreating to the safety of my room.
The ghost in the navy jacket was waiting for me. And for the first time, I didn't mind the haunting.