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Lesson number one of being a brat was to never let a D-type think they had you.

Tony, of course, didn’t fall for it. “How did you do?”

I groaned. Did we really have to do this? I just wanted to chase my tail and bark an ungodly amount of times.

“Fine?” I shrugged. I also ignored how high pitched my voice went. “I don’t know. I won’t get the grades till next week.”

To be fair, I knew the projects would be fine—unless Gerlach decided to reignite his feud against me, warnings from committees be damned. The issue was the exams. I was terrible at multiple choice tests.

For some reason, all my exams had been multiple choice this year.

I could rant for hours about the stupidity of it, but that would be when I wasn’t nursing a headache.

“Hm.” Tony traced my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Maybe I should give you better motivation next semester.”

“I’m listening.” I leaned toward him.

I’d let him tease all he wanted if it meant he held more of my weight, in whichever sense he wanted.

“Yeah?” Tony hummed. “What if I told you every A-plus you got would mean you got to be on top?”

I held my breath for a moment. “Does that deal apply to this semester?”

I raked through the list of subjects. I was certain I’d gotten an A on at least a couple of them.

I didn’t know about an A-plus.

Dammit.

He really should’ve told me that earlier.

A few weeks earlier.

Now he was dangling the treat in front of me when it was too late to do anything about it—and there was a chance I wouldn’t get to reap any rewards.

Delayed gratification was so not my thing.

Tony tilted my chin up and bit my jawline.

I moaned.

“You think I’m going to trust you with my ass this soon, pup?”

Now I whimpered.

“Please?”

At this point, I didn’t even care who fucked who, but I was desperate.

Cece was in their room. We’d agreed to have a day out tomorrow, and they’d given me permission to be as loud as I wanted with Tony today. I didn’t know why we weren’t at his place. Tony had mentioned something about renovations and wanting to fill up my fridge because he’d seen too many post-finals fridge-related horrors.

I’d been surviving on deep-fried frozen meals, so I wasn’t going to tell him no.

“Patience, pup.”

He let go of me then and walked to the kitchen. It was sudden enough I needed to take a step back to regain my balance. I felt lightheaded. It was cliché as fuck, but I guessed it made sense after this hell of a week.

I knew I only had one more year, but… fuck.