Page 4 of Test Me
Logan cleared his throat and swooped back his dark hair as he rose. “Eight works fine. Third floor of the library where the big tables are,” he said, and started to walk off.
“Hey, you didn’t accept my apology,” I called after him, just to be a nuisance.
He turned around. Again, I got the impression that he’d just fended off a smile, and damn if that didn’t make me want to grin, too. The way his brows suddenly pinched together kept it checked, though.
“It took me eight hours to finish that project. I was pissed.”
“You always hold grudges this long?”
“I like sleep. You can work it off, though, maybe,” he said consideringly. “I’ll see you Tuesday, Joshua. Eight sharp.”
“Sharp as your tongue,” I tossed back, as he ignored me and continued out the door.
My mouth watered asI sat at one of the large mahogany tables in the library waiting on Logan on Tuesday as promised.The scent of burgers and fries wafted from the bag next to me on the table. I hadn’t eaten since before practice and was starving. I opened the bag as quietly as I could and snuck a fry, glancing up in time to spy Logan crossing the room from the stairwell in jeans and a long-sleeved Porter & Graves band tee. I stared, still trying in vain to suss out why I was suddenly so attracted to him. Or maybe it wasn’t sudden, but more like a slow simmer that’d gone full boil in the tutoring office when he’d gotten all flushed and ornery about tutoring me.
I’d since spent more time than could possibly be healthy imagining various dirty scenarios involving Logan, me, and every surface or wall that popped into my head, and then taking those fantasies mercilessly out on my cock.
There was a steely-grey tinge to his eyes as he approached, more noticeable because he wasn’t wearing his glasses.
“No glasses tonight?” I asked conversationally. He looked good both ways, and I couldn’t decide which I’d preferred. I also had a strong suspicion he wouldn’t give a shit what my preference was.
Logan appeared caught off-guard, then shrugged. “Sometimes I wear contacts. Ready to get to work?”
“Okay,” I drew the word out. So much for trying to make polite conversation.
Logan had the condescending gaze thing down pat. It became stronger as he sat next to me, dropping his backpack on the floor. “You know we’re not supposed to eat in here.”
“I once saw a guy lay out the equivalent of a Thanksgiving spread. He legit had a whole turkey leg. No one said poodly-doo, so I think it’ll be okay. All sorts of crazy non-studying shit goes on here, trust me. There are only what, ten people up here right now, and three of them are eating too,” I pointed out. “Besides, I brought you one.” I thumped the bag.
Logan shook his head, ducking aside to pull his laptop out of his backpack. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? Cheeseburger with the works, including hot sauce but no mayo.”
He jerked his head in my direction. “How do you know that’s what I always get?”
“That group project. We were in Saitha’s dorm one night and we ordered food, remember?”
“Good memory,” he muttered, with seemingly reluctant interest, then waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not hungry. Let’s get started.”
I reached into the bag and pulled out both burgers, holding his up and raising my voice. “Anyone want a Goldberg Burger, hot?—”
“Shhh!” Logan snatched the burger out of my hand before I could finish. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
I grinned. “You’re welcome.” God, I didn’t know what it was about him that made it so fun to rile him up. Well, I sort of did, and it made me feel a little like a playground bully trying to pick on him, but none of it was mean-spirited. At least, I didn’t think it was, and I guess he was okay with it, too, because seconds later, he was savaging that burger like he hadn’t eaten in a week, while I tried to ignore what the gloss of burger grease on his lips was doing to my cock.
He touched a knuckle to the corner of his mouth, erasing the dollop of ketchup there before pointing at the textbook I’d set out, opened up on the set of problems that, frankly, felt impossible.
“Okay, projectile motion problems,” he started, around another bite of burger. “This should be your territory because lacrosse, right?”
When I squinted at him in confusion, he mimicked throwing a ball. “A ball is a projectile.”
“Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry. I thought you meant something else.” I wished there were some sort of willpower-driven dam against blood flow to the cheeks, because mine immediately warmed. I was an idiot.
Logan studied me for a long moment, then set his burger down, dusting his hands free of crumbs. “First thing, don’t get intimated by fancy lingo. These are still equations like anything else. You’re solving for variables. How’d you do in calculus or pre-calc?”
“Pretty good. Not amazing, but I could keep up.”
“Then you can do this, too, once you get your mind wrapped around the concepts. Let’s break this first one down using lacrosse. Forget what it says here about,”—he glanced down—“a cannon and musket ball.” He snorted, the first legit dorky thing he’d done, yet somehow it set me on fire.