“My other brother, Noah.”
“Maybe.”
There’s fire in his eyes. “And I think, if given the chance, you might grow to like me, too. I can prove to you I’m not a complete asshole. I could be worth your time.”
It’s not enough. “Sebastian, I think it’s best to move past this. I’m still your tutor, but that’s all.”
His expression is closed. Whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t want me to know. For half a second, I wonder if I’ve hurt his feelings. Except Sebastian cares little about anything except himself, and if his feelings are hurt, it’s because he’s been rejected. The guy has probably never been rejected by anyone in his life.
“Yeah. Sure.” The words are curt as he gives me his back. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
On Monday, after my last class leaves, I return to my office for my tutoring session with Sebastian. I’m more on edge than usual. No doubt that’s due to the kiss we shared on Friday. I’d listed the reasons why it was a bad idea for us to share a kiss, but over the weekend, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I enjoyed it, how much I wish I hadn’t put a stop to it. Too late now. At the end of the day, I do believe it’s the better decision to keep our academic life professional, to not mix business with pleasure. So I sit at my desk and wait, wondering how this tutoring session is going to go. Will he revert to his asshole ways? Ignore me? Try to put the moves on me again? If it’s the latter, I’m not sure if I’ll have the strength to resist his charms. All Sebastian has to do is break out his devastating smile and my legs turn to putty.
I fidget in my seat, trying to focus on inputting grades for the twenty minutes until our session starts. It’s no use. I stare at the computer screen and forget all about grades. The only thing in my mind is a memory: the hot press of his mouth on mine. Desire as I had never known it.
The possibility of Sebastian skipping out on tutoring doesn’t occur to me until it’s twenty minutes past four. The clock over the door ticks. Then it’s thirty minutes past.
Forty-five.
I hate myself a little for waiting. Most people would have left. But me? I for over an hour, one eye always on the open door, before finally accepting that he isn’t going to show. If this were any other student, I’d be annoyed. But again, this is college. People do whatever the hell they want, whether or not it’s beneficial for their future. Now that I’ve gotten to know Sebastian a little better, I’m certain this was a calculated move on his part, and I’m even more certain it’s related to the kiss. Whether he did this out of anger or embarrassment, I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.
Ten minutes later, I’m pulling out of the parking lot and heading toward his apartment. It’s not far from campus. My irritation quickly gives way to anger, and yes. I speed.
Blood beats in my ears and crawls down my neck. There’s one parking spot in the shade, which I take, before heading for his door. My plan is to knock politely and ask him if something happened to him. This would be a little easier if I had Sebastian’s phone number, but I don’t.
What actually happens is that I slam my fist against his front door like a man gone mad. The thunder of sound heightens my anger. Sebastian is truly a shitty person. A hot, frustrating man who shits on everyone else’s time. I’m not going to take it. Not anymore. I may be a pushover from time to time, but I’m nobody’s doormat.
On the other side of the door: silence. He might be at soccer practice, except I swore his practices were after tutoring and didn’t start until six. The second time I knock, again, nothing. He must be out. I didn’t see his car in the lot, but then again, I didn’t bother to look. Maybe I’ll leave him a note. Sharp, to-the-point, and disappointed. I’m still considering the idea when the door opens.
Sebastian stares at me, blinking in confusion. Then, as if I come into focus, he blanches at the sight of me.
Without waiting for him to speak, I push inside.
“Um.” After a moment, he shuts the door behind me. I hear his sigh, the guilt in it. “Listen, Aidan—”
“No, you listen.” Turning, I stab my finger into his chest. “You fucking listen to me right now. Are you listening?”
His mouth drops. He blinks. Then he nods, his expression one of caution and, dare I say it, fear.
As much as I want to break Sebastian with my words, or even my fists—even if I hurt myself in the process—I force myself to take a breath. Another. Trying to reach a place of zen. It’s only after a few deep breaths that I notice what he’s wearing. A part of me had hoped he’d be sick. Maybe he’d look terrible, dark circles under his eyes, his hair greasy, a pallor to his skin. But he’s dressed in crisp slacks and a button-down. He looks beautiful. It’s not fair that someone can look this good all the time.
Which confirms my suspicions. He skipped out on tutoring.
Stay calm.
By God, I’m going to try.
“Where were you this afternoon?” I ask, happy to note my voice is steady.
Guilt flares in his gaze. I have to give him credit though. Sebastian doesn’t back down.
We’re standing less than a foot apart. I can smell whatever soap he uses. Or rather, body wash. People as rich as Sebastian don’t use bar soap.
“I was getting ready to go out,” he says, gesturing to his outfit.
That’s obvious. Still doesn’t make it any better. “You were supposed to meet me for tutoring.”
A minute stretches to the point of greater tension. For a moment, I think he might apologize, admit his screw up. But the fucker shrugs, like it’s no big deal, no sweat off his back. “Guess I forgot.”
That’s when I see red. You know what the worst part of this is? At the end of the day, I care more about this guy’s grades than he does, and I’m not going to take his mistreatment of me anymore.
“You know what your problem is, Sebastian?” I bull over him before he has a chance to respond. “Aside from being a dick, I mean.” His eyes widen a little at that. He wasn’t expecting those words to come out of my mouth. Rarely do I curse. It’s only saved for special occasions, or when I’m ripping someone a new asshole. “Your head is so deep up your ass that you don’t notice how your actions affect others. And the worst part is, you don’t care. You don’t give a shit.” I spit the word and dare to step closer. He backs up against the wall. There’s nowhere else for him to go.
“Do you think,” I say, “I have time to deal with people like you?” When he doesn’t respond, I repeat, “Do you?”
He starts at the venom in my voice. A muscle slides in his jaw. He looks down, looks away. “No,” he whispers.
“You’re right. I don’t. Do you really want to know why I’m your tutor?” This is probably crossing a line, but at this point, I’m over it. He has to know how his behavior affects others. “Because no one else wanted to do it. They’d heard of how you treated people. You couldn’t even pay them to take the job.”
Everything about his expression is tight. I’ve hit a nerve. “But you were desperate enough for the money, is that it?”
I was pissed off before, but now I’ve reached a whole new level. I bite off my retort, choosing instead to take a breath. “You know Sebastian, the other day I thought you might actually be a decent guy. I can see now that I was wrong.” Finally giving him space, I move to the door. “Find someone else to be your doormat. I’m through tutoring you.”
My hand is on the handle when I hear behind me, “Wait.”
My fingers tighten on the knob. After the way he took advantage of my goodwill, he deserves nothing less than me slamming the door in his face, emptiness, silence. But in the end, I turn to face him. Sometimes it sucks being a decent person.
He inhales deeply, lets it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I am. It was a dick move, you’re right. But I was... embarrassed about coming on to you.”
My heart kicks up int
o my throat. His eyes search mine. It feels like he asked a question, even though he didn’t. Then his attention moves from my face down my body and back up again, and that one move causes heat to flush under my skin.
“Maybe it’s because I can’t stop thinking about a math geek who by all standards I shouldn’t be interested in, but I am.”
I consider what he said. I hear what he says, and I read between the lines. He’s trying to tell me something. Opening up, in his own way. I recall the vulnerability he showed me the evening of his game. Then I ask, “Do you really think I look like Jude Law?”
The tip of his tongue touches his upper lip as he fights a smile. When it finally stretches full across his mouth, the effect is devastating. Desire stirs between my legs. Internally, I sigh. I didn’t come here for this, but no one said anything about my subconscious getting in line with the rest of me. And my body very much wants this man in front of me, asshole or not.
Sebastian nods, hazel eyes crinkling. “The glasses—” He makes a sound in his throat that makes my dick throb in interest. It’s full of approval and pleasure, and he’s doing nothing but watching me. The heat in his expression as he takes me in makes me go up in flames.
Whatever thread connects us, it tugs me toward him. His yearning meets mine, and I can’t help myself. Most of the time I try to make good decisions. Decisions that won’t screw up my life. What harm could a kiss be if we both enjoy it?
“Just this once,” I say, but it’s full of lies.
Our mouths fit together much as they did the last time, though it’s slower, exploratory, a probing. The space between our bodies disappears mote by mote, and then we’re flush, chest to chest and thigh to thigh, Sebastian’s hand settling gently at my waist. He lets me set the pace, and I keep it easy. It’s a question and an answer all in one.
Before it gets too hot, I pull away. His breath flutters against my mouth. “Don’t miss tutoring again,” I murmur.
Sebastian nods solemnly. He watches me all the way out the door.
Chapter 13
Sebastian
As promised, I show up to tutoring the following Tuesday. I’m even ten minutes early, which surprises Aidan. He was working out mathematical equations by hand when I knocked on his open door, and he glanced up, his glasses sliding down his nose, brown hair curling in his face, and I felt something drop in my stomach. He really is attractive with those glasses, and his build isn’t as skinny as I initially thought. With a little effort on his part, he could be an eye-catcher in better fitted clothing, though truth be told, I’m rather fond of his lack of fashion awareness. There’s just something about him. Hell if I know.
He blinks at me like I’m a figment of his imagination. “Sebastian.” He straightens in his chair. Pushes his glasses up his nose. It takes a heroic effort for me not to drag him across the desk and plant my mouth onto his. It feels like I’m succumbing to a sickness. An obsession? I’ve thought about him every day since we last saw each other. It hasn’t been enough to mess up my game—I’m too disciplined for that—but it’s a close thing. The pillow-soft feel of his lips as I sank into him. The jut of his hipbones against mine. Fuck me. I’m hard.
“Didn’t think I’d show?” I joke, taking the empty seat and setting my backpack on the ground.
He doesn’t answer, which confirms my suspicions. After my actions, the guy has little trust in my word, which sucks. I’m hoping I’ll be able to convince him otherwise. I’m willing to wait if that’s what it takes. He out his faith in me once. I’m hoping he’ll be able to do it again.
Aidan stares at me as I remove my notebook from my backpack. When I drop the textbook onto his desk, startling him, he says, “I didn’t even know you had a textbook.”
Fuck. This guy. Maybe I’m becoming too soft. While I know he didn’t intend it as a barb, it feels like one. I manage a thin smile, trying not to take it personally. Aidan isn’t cruel. He’s just clueless. “Yep. I even brought my own pencil.”
He goes still. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to be condescending about it.”
I shrug it off. “You’re only making assumptions based on what you’ve seen. I’ve given you no reason to expect otherwise.” But that changes. Today.
For the next two hours, Aidan helps me through the most recent calculus material. It’s safe to say I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to be learning. It’s gibberish to me. The professor blows through a chapter a class period, and I barely grasp the most recent concept before we move on. After a few weeks of struggling, I gave up.
“So this is the letter we’re trying to find?” I ask, pointing to an x in the equation.
“Variable,” he corrects me.
“Whatever.”
He huffs a sigh, but to his credit, remains patient as he explains its purpose. He’s been patient the entire two hours, even though I have a feeling he thinks a brick wall is smarter than me. Math just isn’t my forte. Or English. Any schooling, really. But to keep playing on the team I have to pass my classes, so there you go. The thought of probation threatens to drown me.
“We’re solving for x,” Aidan repeats. He rewrites the equation in a different way so that the x is isolated on one side of the equation and the other numbers are clumped on the other side.
“I guess.”
He looks at me. We’re sitting next to each other, and I can feel his body heat through his Polo. Our arms sit on the desk a few inches apart. My complexion is extremely tan compared to Aidan’s, whose skin resembles the color of spoiled milk. The guy is a fucking ghost. It’s kind of hot.
“We’re solving for x,” he says again. “Stay with me.” Turning back to the paper, he asks, “Based on what we talked about with PEMDAS, what is the first step we need to do to find out the value for x?”
PEMDAS. Right. We just talked about that. An acronym. For something I can’t remember.
I study the equation, picking through the steps needed. “Parentheses first.”
“Good!” He shoots me a grin that I feel in my chest and scribbles some more. Aidan is the nerdiest of nerds. Never saw anyone smile over math like that before. It’s hard not to smile in return. His enthusiasm is contagious.
“This is great, isn’t it?” he says with enthusiasm.
All right, not that contagious.
We finish up the session after I solve a few problems on my own. I make mistakes, but by the end, I have a better grasp on what I’m supposed to be doing, and the homework Aidan gives me isn’t so overwhelming that it will cut into my practice time.
After packing up, Aidan turns to his computer, and I head for the door. When I get there, I turn around. “Hey, I was wondering.”
Aidan lifts his eyes from where I swear they were checking out my ass. His cheeks pinken. “What?”
“Um.” Is it suddenly hot in here or is it just me? I shift my backpack strap to my other shoulder. It’s basically a requirement to only wear your backpack with one strap as a jock. I don’t make the rules. I just follow them. “My parents are having a party at their place this weekend. Nothing special. Just some family friends. Might barbeque something. I guess I was wondering if you’d want to come?”
His lips part, and he looks at me as if I just asked him to donate one of his kidneys. His shock is almost enough to irritate me, but I hold back. Whatever this thing is with Aidan, it’s new, and I don’t want to ruin it by being, well, me.
“Oh.”
That’s all he says. My pulse kicks into a run. I’m afraid he’ll turn me down and I’m fully expecting it, but he adds, “You sure that’s okay?”
“Of course it’s okay.” It comes out sharper than I anticipated. “I asked, didn’t I? I’m allowed to bring a guest.”
“Wouldn’t you want to bring one of your teammates?”
My look is deadpan. “My teammates hate me, remember?”
His
expression turns sheepish. It’s adorable. “Ah. Right. Sorry about that.” He taps his fingers against his desk. Glances at his computer screen, then at me. He nods. “Where and when should I meet you?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up. Where do you live?”
Aidan hesitates for a moment. He rattles off his address, which I input into my phone. I smile.
When I pull up to Aidan’s apartment complex that Saturday, I find him already standing in the parking lot, looking lost. He approaches my car as I turn into an empty spot, but before he can get in, I hop out and lock the car.
He stops, tensing.
We stare at each other for an awkward beat. Then I frown. “Hey. I was just going to come get you.”
He stands straight as a pillar, arms rigid at his sides, hair messy enough that I have to fight the urge to run my fingers through it. I have no idea what’s coming over me. Must be something in the air. Allergies? “Well, I’m here.” The fingers of his right hand form a fist, briefly. “You have a Ferrari.” It’s not a question.
I glance at my car. “I do.”
He nods at that. Waits a few seconds. Then: “Ready to go?” He starts walking to the passenger door.
I come around to meet him halfway. “The party doesn’t start for another hour.” When I’m a foot away, he stops, watching me with caution. “What’s the rush?” I’m glad he’s willing to go to my parents’ event with me, but the longer he stands there, the quiet of unease rolling between us, the more I think something’s wrong. “Don’t you want to show me around your place?” That was half the reason I came here early. I’m curious about where and how Aidan lives. The other half... Damn, but I really want to plant one on him. The guy is flighty as a hare though, so I keep my distance. I’ll just have to coax him to me with wine. Or my charm.
Surprise is written all over his face. “Oh. Um.”
Aidan doesn’t appear enthused by the idea of showing me around his apartment. Interesting. I tell myself not to take it personally. I think, Sebastian, you jackass, this guy owes you nothing, so don’t get your fucking panties in a wad. It’s important to be kind to oneself, yeah?
Sebastian (The Dumonts Book 1) Page 8