Page 11

Chapter 11

Weston

P rofessor Sinclair drops yet another passing test in front of me. “I’m glad things with Darcy are working out well for you.”

My stomach does the little excited flip it always seems to do these days when someone mentions Darcy. “Yes, sir. He’s been amazing.”

Professor Sinclair nods with a small smile. “He’s excellent at what he does,” he says before moving down the row.

He’s not wrong. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen anything Darcy isn’t good at.

I’m not sure what switched in my mind, but something about him sleeping tucked against me… awakened something. I couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. It was like a pull toward him, and I stood no chance.

His skin was soft. Much softer than I think I anticipated. And he has this little smattering of freckles across his nose that are really too adorable for words. At this point, I can’t even claim that he’s objectively attractive.

He is attractive. I’m attracted to him. It’s a new experience for me—not one I’ve had before where another man is concerned, but I can’t really say I’m upset about it. I guess maybe I should be. Or could be.

It’s just… he’s Darcy. He’s sassy and intelligent and thoughtful. He learned football for the sole purpose of making it easier for me to learn history. And it’s working. I’ve passed every quiz and test since we started our tutoring sessions. At this rate, I’ll have no issues passing my midterm. My final, even, for that matter.

I keep thinking about kissing him.

Not in a fleeting way, but in a knocks me in the chest and steals my breath way. It’s visceral. It took all of my self-control not to at the coffee shop. If we had been alone? I might have. Not that I care about kissing him in public. I think I’d probably kiss him anywhere, but I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Plus, I don’t even know if he likes me. It would be rude to make assumptions. I’ve already crossed the line once when I was touching his lip.

Maybe I should be freaking out about it. It’s not every day that you wake up with a man pressed against your body that way, but I’m not. I can’t even bring myself to be concerned with what other people will think.

I like him. I like the way he laughs, and the look on his face when he’s concentrating hard on something. I like the way he bites his lower lip when he’s trying to hold back a sarcastic remark. The way he blushes and gets flustered when I flirt with him. Which I realize I’ve been doing for a while. I think my body and subconscious knew long before my conscious mind caught up and got with the program .

And now all I can think about is how it’s only a couple more days until my first game of the season. Knowing that he’s going to be in the stands watching is a whole different type of feeling. Knowing that I get to take him to dinner afterward? I’m entirely too excited.

When class is over, I gather all my stuff, and as soon as I walk into the front door of my place, I sit down and text Darcy.

Me

Passed again.

Darcy

Omg! I knew you would. You’re picking up the information like it’s nothing. :)

Me

Yeah, yeah. You told me.

I can’t stop smiling at my phone. I love talking to him.

Me

I have a question.

Darcy

Yeah?

Me

Would you wear my jersey to the game this weekend?

“Read” pops up almost immediately, but he doesn’t respond. Then the chat bubbles show up and go away. For a solid five minutes, he doesn’t say anything despite all the typing he’s doing.

Finally, a message comes through.

Darcy

Isn’t that usually a… couple thing?

Hmm. Maybe it is. But I’d really like to see him wearing my name and number in the stands.

Me

Is this you worried again about what other people think?

He sends me an eye roll emoji that has me laughing.

Darcy

I’ll grab it after our tutoring session on Thursday.

Darcy

Parker is never going to let me hear the end of this.

I’m finishing up reading a chapter in my book when Darcy knocks on the door. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Knocking, that is. Ever since he walked in on me half naked.

I close the book and let him in, my heart fluttering in my throat when he smiles at me. God, he’s gorgeous. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies.

I haven’t seen him in person since the coffee shop, and everything feels a little awkward for me. I’m not sure how to navigate my feelings for him. It was one thing to flirt harmlessly with him when I didn’t realize I was attracted to him. It’s something different entirely now that I know. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or mess up the easy dynamic we have between us.

His friendship means a lot to me, and I wouldn’t want to risk losing it. Not even to explore the new feelings I have for him. I enjoy spending time with him. I enjoy listening to him talk and share his passions. Maybe that’s enough.

I already know it won’t be. I want everything.

“Can I come in?” Darcy asks, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. To be fair, I have been standing in the doorway staring at him for who knows how long without actually speaking.

I step back, gesturing for him to come in. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

He gives me a questioning look as he walks past me, but I don’t have any answers for him. Hell, I hardly have any answers for myself.

All I know is that this study session may be the hardest one yet, and not because of the subject matter.

Darcy walks past me, and when he does, his scent washes over me, making my pulse speed up as I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to capture more of it. This is hopeless. I’m hopeless.

I follow him to the couch, sitting down beside him as he spreads everything out across the table. “So, what’s on the agenda for today? ”

He leans forward and I watch, transfixed, as his glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up with the back of his hand absentmindedly. It’s a move I’ve seen him do a hundred times, but this time, I have to look away, shifting as my cock swells against my zipper and my pulse races. Since when is someone pushing their glasses up a turn on? This is getting out of hand.

Darcy opens his notebook, turning it to face me as he tells me what our lesson will be today.

The only problem is that once he starts diving into things, I don’t hear a single damn word he says.

I mean, I do. But none of them sink in.

Instead, I find myself watching his lips move. The way he nibbles on the bottom one in between sentences or when he doesn’t think he’s explaining himself well. The way he moves his hands in the air when he’s particularly excited about something.

I lean closer, completely captivated as he talks.

I know I should be paying attention. This is the whole point, right? Learn from Darcy and pass history so I can keep my scholarship and make my dreams a reality, but I’m having such a hard time focusing.

My heart is pounding, and my stomach is burning with the urge to pull him into my arms and kiss him. I bet his lips would be so soft.

“Don’t you agree?” he asks, effectively cutting off my thoughts.

“Um. Yes?” I agree, trying to pretend I have a clue what he’s talking about.

Darcy narrows his eyes at me. “You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

I nod. “Of course I am.”

He leans back on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay then, what was I talking about? ”

My breath leaves me in a quick rush because I really have no fucking clue. I could try to bullshit my way through it, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. “I was paying attention.”

“Sure,” he says, tapping his fingers against his arm.

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I was… thinking.”

He gets a little furrow between his brows. “Thinking? About what?”

Kissing you.

I have to physically swallow the words, so I don’t blurt them out. Instead, I clear my throat. “How lucky I am that you’re such a patient and magnanimous tutor.”

Darcy’s fighting a smile, his bottom lip twitching. I give him my best grin and he breaks, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Oh my God. Okay. I’ll go over it again, but you better pay attention this time.”

I nod solemnly. “Yes, sir.”

He sits up with a chuckle, tapping the notebook. “I was talking about the guillotine. When they started using it, they considered it a more humane way of executing someone.”

I force myself to focus. “How did they come to that conclusion?”

“Well, they tested it.” I know he’s still talking, but my eyes have dropped to his lips again, watching the way he forms the words. With my eyes so focused on his mouth, my hearing takes a hike. I manage to get my ears online just in time to hear him say, “Of course, then they started debating if the brain remained conscious—”

“Darcy.” His name is out of my mouth before I even make the decision to say it.

He stops mid-sentence, his eyes finding mine. “Yeah?”

My mouth goes dry, my throat clicking with a heavy swallow. “I—um. ”

I’m moving before I can stop myself, lifting my hand and catching a strand of Darcy’s hair between my fingers. His breath hitches as I twirl it around my fingertips. It’s soft. Really fucking soft. Just like his skin. Exactly how I imagined it. I let it fall from my fingers and brush my knuckles over his cheek, down to his jaw.

His lips part and I lean in, my heart pounding and my stomach tightening in anticipation.

I cup his jaw, dragging my thumb over the smooth skin. His breath stutters, warm against my lips. He’s not pulling away. He’s not telling me to stop. He’s staring at me—his eyes wide—expectant, almost.

Fuck. I want to kiss him more than I think I’ve wanted anything else in my life.

I lean in further. My nose brushes his, and fire spreads through my entire body at his sharp intake of breath. His eyes flutter closed, and my own follow suit, my pulse racing.

Just as our lips are about to meet, just as I’m about to cross the line between wanting, wanting, wanting, and finally having, Darcy’s phone rings—loud and shrill.

We both startle and he jumps back, putting distance between us and grabbing for it where it’s sitting on the table.

“Dad?” he says as he answers.

I let myself fall against the couch, my body tingling from the letdown of almost, but not enough.

“Yeah, I can do that. Just let them know to email me. This is my last available slot, though. With West and Caleb and then my classes, I can only take one more.”

He’s quiet for a minute, clearly listening intently to his dad, nodding slightly every so often. “Yeah. I think West is catching on with no problems, so I can probably scale back with him quickly now that he’s figured out a way to connect it to things he knows. Once that happens, I’ll be able to take another.”

My heart drops out, my stomach flipping in a way that has nothing to do with excited nerves, but instead with dread. He’s talking about tutoring. Once that happens? Once he’s fulfilled his obligation to me. That’s what he means.

I’m not sure how I let myself forget that this is his job. I guess somewhere in the haze of football and cookies and coffee and falling asleep together watching movies, I just… forgot what this was meant to be.

I’m a fucking idiot.