Page 27 of The Surprise Play (Nolan U Football #3)

“The best way to learn something is to apply it,” Satch tells me.

“An even better way to learn something is to teach it to someone else. And that’s what I want you to do.

So, you pretend that I don’t know anything about investing and explain what a growth fund is to me and how I can make it work for my future. ”

My mouth goes dry as I shake my head. “I can’t do that.”

She lets out a soft laugh and places her hand over mine again. Her short fingers look so small against my gorilla hand.

“Yes, you can.” Now it’s her turn to reach out and tip my chin.

I reluctantly look her in the eye the way she wants me to.

“You’re smarter than you think, Wily Wilson. Now teach me.” Her hopeful expression is so… how the fuck do I say no to it?

Everything in me is screaming Don’t do this! You’re gonna suck and make a fool of yourself!

But if I tell her that and bail like I want to, she’ll be really disappointed. And I will do anything not to be the guy to make her frown.

So, against my better judgment, I shift in my seat, pulling a blank sheet of paper toward me and trying to figure out where to start.

Okay.

Investments.

Growth funds.

She’s pretending to know nothing.

For me. She’s playing clueless so I can come across like the smart one.

I dart my eyes to hers and she gives me an encouraging nod, and this sensation kind of blooms in my chest. I don’t know what it is or what it means, but it makes me want to ace this task just so I can see her smile.

And ace it I fucking will!

She wants me to play pretend. I’m the king of pretend.

Clearing my throat, I gather up my pages, tapping them into a neat pile and becoming the investment adviser she wants me to be. “So, Miss Crapadopolis…”

A laughing snort bursts out of her, and she slaps a hand over her eyes as I continue this charade.

“I hear you’re new to the country, and you’re seeking some financial advice.”

It takes her a second to get her giggling under control, but finally she looks up and gives me an impish grin. “Yes. That would be… uh… very helpful.” She’s putting on an accent that I can’t identify.

In fact, I don’t think anyone could.

It’s some combination of European that is probably a blend of French, Spanish, and Italian.

I’m not sure, but it’s fucking hilarious, and I can’t help a short laugh of my own while I click on my pen and get to work.

I walk her through basic investments, explaining the stock market as best I can. She asks me questions that push for more details and I’m pretty sure I deliver… if the grin on her face is anything to go by.

Score for Wily! Smile number one. How many more of those can I get?

She keeps playing clueless and refuses to drop that accent, forcing me to continue.

I’ve soon launched into various types of ways to invest in the stock market, and by the end of my thirty-minute spiel, she’s nodding and telling me she’d like to invest ten thousand dollars in an index fund, and which one should she go for?

My lips twitch with a grin as I then run her through various types of index funds, and in the end, she’s leaning toward the S&P 500.

“An excellent choice, Miss Crapadopolis.”

She giggles. “Thank you, Mr. Money. You explained that beautifully. You must be a very smart man.”

I smile but can’t nod in agreement. She’ll get it one day. I’m not as clever as she thinks I am.

But you did just teach her something about the stock market.

And shit, am I blushing right now?

Clearing my throat, I focus back on the paper I was scribbling all over. My messy digits and letters are hard to read, and I want to cover them up with my arm, but Satch pulls the page away from me before I can.

“That was so good, Wily. Seriously. You did such a great job.” Her praise soaks into me, and I lap it up like a thirsty dog. “You were clear and easy to understand. You answered all of my questions without waffling. You definitely know more than you think you do.”

“Yeah, well, I was surprised how much came out of me just then. My brain didn’t even freeze up once.” I shake my head, kind of in awe as I only just realize that. “Wow. That was… I mean, you’re incredible.”

“Me?” She laughs and brushes off the compliment. “I’m nothing special.”

“No, you are. That’s the thing. I’ve worked with so many tutors, and none of them have made me get stuff the way you do.” I keep staring at her, enjoying the soft pink of her rounded cheeks. “Do you have a major yet? Like, do you know what you’re hoping to do after college?”

She shrugs. “I’m not exactly sure yet. Maybe something to do with literature?”

“Become a teacher.” I lightly grip her arm. “You have to. You’re so good at it. Seriously amazing.”

“I’m not amazing,” she mumbles.

“Yeah, you are.” My hand shifts from her arm to her face, coaxing her to look up at me.

Those big eyes of her finally find mine, and I drink in her soulful gaze.

There’s something in that look that…

Oh shit, she’s…

Does she like me?

I’ve seen that look enough times to know it.

Girls crush on me. I’m not being arrogant, they just do. I’ve been hit on more times than I can count, and I know this look.

But I also don’t.

Because she seems to see me in a way that no one else can.

She thinks I’m smart, capable of more than just football, and …

I brush my thumb over the curve of her cheek, my eyes darting back to those plump lips again. They look so fucking kissable, and I really shouldn’t.

I can’t go getting distracted by my tutor this way.

But how can I not kiss those beautiful lips?

She’s staring at me like I’m something special… like maybe she wants me to kiss her.

So before I can talk myself out of it, I lean a little closer.

Her breath catches for just a second before my lips press against hers.