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CHAPTER NINE

HEATHER

Thirty minutes later, I sat at Hector’s dining room table with a plate of warm pasta in front of me. I kicked my legs back and forth underneath my seat and took another bite of some of the best food I had ever eaten.

I didn t know that you could cook, I hummed.

“You like it?”

A small smile crossed my lips, and I shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s okay ,” I said—because that man had a huge ego and I was attempting to bring him back down to reality.

After rolling his eyes, he set his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Are you going to tell me why you were crying?”

“I’ve just had a bad day.”

What happened?

I blew out a sigh. He wasn’t going to let this go, was he?

“You’re going to think it’s stupid,” I murmured, pushing spaghetti around on the plate before taking a scoop of it on my fork. “So, no, I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to tell you. You’ll judge me too.”

“Did your friends judge you?”

“No, but?—”

“Then, who did?”

After setting my fork back down on the plate, I crossed my arms. My dad will.

He arched a brow. “Jacob will for what? He brags about you all the time.”

I pressed my lips together to stop my chin from quivering. “If I tell you, will you drop it?”

“Yes.”

Though something told me that he really wouldn’t be dropping anything.

Do you remember when we were talking online and planning to meet up for the first time, but I told you that I couldn t because I was studying for a test last week? Well, I failed it. See? Stupid. Now if you d let me, I d like to go back to eating in peace.

When I grabbed my fork again, that man’s gaze burned into me.

I looked up at him. “What?”

“Why’d you fail?”

“Because I’m stupid,” I said. “Now?—”

“You’re not stupid,” he said. “Bratty? Yes. But not stupid.”

My eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than they should’ve, a warm feeling spreading throughout my chest. I didn’t know why I felt this way around him, why I had even agreed to come over or tell him any of this.

But nobody had … said that to me before.

Every time I put myself down-except in front of my friends-nobody would ever say otherwise. Compared to Aaron, I felt like a complete idiot who couldn t do anything right. Hell, he was even starting his own company and had gotten over a million dollars in funding for it in undergrad.

Undergrad!

I was almost halfway through my twenties and couldn’t pass a class.

“Yes, I am,” I whispered.

Hector leaned across the table, took my chin in his hand, and tilted my head to look up at him. No, you re not, Heather. Now, why did you fail? Did you not understand the material, or had I been keeping you up too late with my messages?

My lips quivered again, the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. I didn t want to cry in front of him again because it d make me feel even more like an idiot, but I almost couldn t help it. He was usually so rough, but his touch right now was so gentle.

“I don’t understand it,” I whispered, a tear running down my cheek. “I’ve tried to.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“The MBA program forces everyone to take a software development course,” I said.

It had absolutely nothing to do with my track or what I actually wanted to do, so I thought it was so stupid that I had to learn how to code. But I couldn t back out of it now. I had gone through four years of undergrad and now nearly two years of grad school.

“Coding, huh?” he hummed.

“Yeah, but it’s so hard.”

“Do you want me to help you?”

I glanced up at him. “You know how to code?”

I ve picked it up along the way. My brother built a software company, so I know a bit.

But his smirk told me that he was selling himself short.

“You know more than just a bit, don’t you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

His smirk widened even more. “I’ll make learning fun for you.”

“And how’re you going to do that?” I asked, arching a brow.

“I have my ways.”