pretty green eyes follow my movements and remain on my hands even after I’ve lowered them to the desk.
Professor Gibbs returns to the front, leaving Avery and me alone. I don’t care that we are in a room full of people. She’s fucking turning me on.
Being able to check out Avery for the sake of schoolwork is an amazing thing. She bites her lip and begins jotting something down in her journal. I wish I knew what the hell she was writing. Is it the thing Professor said about my hands? Somehow I doubt it is. Her gaze rakes over my jaw, down my chest, to my biceps, and it’s driving me insane. Each look is like a caress. It hits me like a jolt. I can practically feel her undressing me with her eyes. Shit. Who is this girl? She’s innocent and sexy all at once, and I know I’m in trouble. My heart is pumping fast, and I feel myself getting hard.
I flip open my own journal, needing the distraction. There are so many things I could write about Avery, but staring down at the blank page, I’m unsure where to begin. I’ve never kept a journal, but I have a feeling writing about her will be easy.
I take a deep breath and try to focus on the non-traditional body parts like Professor Gibbs reminded us. That way I’m not the perv staring at her tits. Which are exceptionally nice, I quickly note. Her head is still tipped down, so hopefully she didn’t notice my indiscretion. Damn, she’s writing a freaking novel. Is there really that much to say?
I swallow and focus on my notebook, finally writing, Her soft skin – it makes me want to protect her. I close the book before she has the chance to see what I wrote. God, I sound like a pussy.
I lean closer to Avery, and she slams her journal closed. But not before I see that she’s written an entire page about me. Wow. ‘Had a lot to say, huh?’ I whisper, offering a weak smile. She makes me feel so unsure and alive all at the same time.
She just shrugs, trying to downplay the assignment. But I can’t. There’s something happening between us. And I want to explore what it is.
‘Do you have class after this?’ I ask.
‘No. Why?’ she whispers back.
‘Come get coffee with me.’ It’s not a question and Avery just nods before turning to face the front of the room again.
The rest of the class drags by, as interesting as the topic is. The soft, feminine scent of Avery distracts me. Once we get outside, I wait for her to come up with an excuse, but she doesn’t. She walks by my side, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. And really, that’s all the encouragement I need.
Avery
I watch Jase walk to the counter at the ultra-busy student commons to pick up our coffee order. He leans against the counter, T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. I think he’s probably flirting with the cashier, or she’s flirting with him. Doesn’t matter. I’m still mad at myself for how I acted in class. Just because he has many fine features did not mean I had to catalog each and every one in my damn journal. Once I realized he wrote like one line and gave up on the assignment, I felt like a complete idiot.
While I wait for him to return with our coffee, I slide my notebooks from my bag and arrange them on the table, making sure to keep the journal safely in my bag. I don’t want Jase snatching it and reading about how I think his eyes are the most mesmerizing shade of blue, like a cloudless summer sky, and being near him makes me feel more alive than I have in a while, makes me want things I thought I never would again.
I can’t give my heart away again. Especially considering it hardly still beat inside my chest. Of course, all this is post-Brent. That’s often how I think of my life – the me before all the drama of my senior year, and the me after. After I trusted him. After I let myself be used by him. I know I brought it all on myself, but that doesn’t erase the past. Looking back, I don’t understand how I could have been so stupid. But when you’re in love and desperate for affection, and dealing with the fact you were adopted – it turns out you’ll do just about anything for attention. Things I now wish I could take back. But I never can. Even if there weren’t witnesses, the act is burned into my memory.
Besides, it’s not like Jase is asking for anything from me. Friends, maybe. That I could handle. I think.
I would probably consider dropping the class if Jase weren’t in there to witness my defeat. I don’t want him to know the subject terrifies me. I want to be brave, open, like the rest of the students seem. I thought taking this class would be good for me, but now I’m not so sure. But one thing is certain – I won’t back out now with my tail between my legs. At least part of me wants to see where this will go – especially since it means I’ll be seeing Jase every Tuesday and Thursday, all surrounded by the titillating topic of sex. It’ll be a wonder if I can survive this semester without spontaneously combusting.
Jase slides into the booth across from me, setting a paper cup of coffee in front of me. ‘Cream and a boatload of sugar, just like you requested.’
‘Thanks.’ I try a sip. Jase is still watching me, a lopsided grin across his lips. ‘What?’
He chuckles softly, the deep timbre of his voice raking over me, and folds his hands on the table in front of him. ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’
‘Do what?’
He smirks. ‘I see no other choice than to become your tutor.’
This time I’m the one laughing. ‘You want to be my human sexuality tutor? That’s original. And not douchey at all.’
Jase’s determined gaze meets mine. ‘As tempting as that offer is – and there’s so much I could teach you – no. I meant I could tutor you at…life.’
‘Gee thanks. Why don’t you just admit you think I’m a loser with no life and get on with it.’
‘I didn’t say loser. Lost…probably. Not having as much fun as you should be…definitely.’
‘Rip the Band-Aid off, why don’t you.’
Jase settles back against his seat, sliding his cup of coffee toward him in the process. ‘Just calling it like I see it, babe.’
He’s too relaxed, too smug. I want to lash out and say something to wipe that cocky smile from his face. Instead, I pull a deep breath and reflect on his observation of me. I’m sitting stick-straight in my seat, my stack of textbooks neatly lined up in front of me. And each time Jase has seen me – first at the party, then behind the dumpster – I’ve been hiding. I wish I could tell him those were isolated incidents, that I’m not really like that, but sadly I am. I realize with a flash of clarity, Jase is right. And suddenly I want more.
I lean toward him on my elbows, weighing his offer. ‘So how would this life-coaching work exactly…I’m not saying I’m interested, but if I was…’
‘We’d need to begin spending more time together for starters.’
I nod, listening intently. I’m thankful he doesn’t know my heart just kicked into overdrive at his words. ‘What else?’
Jase abandons his
